IF

Kathryn Janeway was dead. And so was her entire crew, the blend of Starfleet and Maquis. All gone.

Captain Janeway stared at her reflection in the view port of her ready room. It was cold and lifeless, just like her counterpart. "The queen is dead," she murmured. "Long live the queen."

Self-destructing Voyager was exactly what she would have done - in fact, had determined to do. Her ship was terribly damaged; just the bare list of priority repairs filled several PADDs. The hull breach on the bridge had only been restored in the previous hour. Essentially, she had already made the decision to die, made the decision to sacrifice what was left of her ship and her people in order to save the other Voyager.

Yet here she was, still alive. She felt a little disjointed despite her recent conversation with her youngest senior staff member. Just twenty minutes ago, she'd walked the corridor with Ensign Kim, dodging debris and maintenance crewmen. He hadn't originated as their Harry, but he was their Harry now. As he'd put it, everything was the same, yet everything was different. All his friends and colleagues were dead, yet they were all still here. She'd cheerily clapped the young man on the shoulder and blithely reassured him that as Starfleet officers, "weird was part of the job." When they made it home - if they made it home - she wondered just what she was going to say to Mr. and Mrs. Kim? "My condolences on the death of your son. By the way, congratulations on your son's safe arrival home." She shook her head and rubbed at her temple. Just how "weird" was that?

One hundred and forty-seven people had died in order that she and her crew could live. Her eyes closed and her hands curled into fists. She felt a raw, uncharacteristic surge of satisfaction that the alternate Janeway had destroyed the huge Vidiian ship along with her Voyager. "Blood-sucking vampires," she muttered. The aliens had taken advantage of a ship with zero defenses - no shields, no weapons; the proverbial sitting duck.

What if they had found the passage between the two ships? The idea that they might have continued their deadly rampage on her people and into her universe horrified her. Of course, as she and Torres had discovered while studying the theory of transferring their crew to the intact Voyager, if more than five to ten people passed through the spatial rift, their atomic balance of the two ships would have been radically altered, and both would have been destroyed. She nodded to herself; better than turning into a body shop of spare parts for the Vidiians.

Now she had another reason to succeed in getting home: she was determined to make known the sacrifice that the other crew had made.

The sound of knocking at her door pulled her from her reflections. The chime still wasn't functioning. "Come," she called out, but nothing happened. The knocking continued, and with a sigh, she crossed the room to manually override the door controls. Finally the doors slid open just enough for her first officer to step through.

As always, the very sight of Commander Chakotay settled and steadied her. He was a strong and handsome man, but it was much, much more than his appearance that affected her. There was an aura of confident vitality overlaying a bedrock of peace that surrounded him. Even through the fiasco with Seska, Janeway knew that appointing Chakotay as first officer was one of the best decisions she'd ever made, and one she'd never regretted. He brought to the position a quiet competence and sensitivity that she'd seen in few other officers. There were so many times he seemed to know her better than she knew herself. .

Now he stood, hands on hips, staring at her ready room doors stuck half open. "Another thing to add to the list of repairs, I see," he commented dryly. "You wanted to see me, Captain?"

Captain Janeway uprighted the toppled chair before her desk and waved her hand at it for him to be seated. "Don't bother to try to get the doors to close. They'll close on their own in another ten seconds or so. Surprisingly, replicators are working, so would you like something?"

"Tea, please." Chakotay dropped into the chair, only to quickly brace himself as it wobbled dangerously. "Replicators may be working, but I think this chair needs a bit of help." At that moment, the ready room doors slid shut.

She set the mug before him, and moved behind the desk to her chair, cradling her own cup. "I think it probably needs to be buried with honors. Serving above and beyond the call of duty." With a frown, she stared into the depths of her coffee for a moment. "Actually, that's why I called you here."

He grinned. "To plan your chair's burial service?"

She looked up at him, her expression somber and unsmiling. "No. To figure out how to plan a memorial service for one hundred and forty-seven people."

"Ah," he sobered instantly, nodding slowly. "We need a nuanka - a period of mourning. I had resigned myself to the fact that it was going to be us. As Tuvok would say, it was the logical thing to do. Yet here we are. My grandmother was fond of saying, 'The road of life is full of unexpected twists and turns.'"

"Much more poetically said than, 'weird'." She told him of her conversation with Harry. "You know, I'm of two minds - strange thing to say, considering what we've just been through, but do we try to find and retrieve Harry's body? To have your dead body in the morgue when you're still alive and well? It's as bad as temporal mechanics, and-"

"I know. You hate temporal mechanics," he finished her statement. "We don't have to make that decision right now because at the moment, we don't have the ability to do so. On the one hand, it might seem a little morbid, but on the other hand, we do already have Baby Wildman in the morgue."

"And yet, Samantha holds a beautiful, healthy baby girl in her arms down in sickbay." Janeway shook her head. "There are some days I'd like to add a shot or two of whiskey to my coffee."

Chakotay's eyes opened wide in mock shock. "Captain! I never knew you were a drinking woman."

"No more than the next person. And Commander," she pointed at him severely, "you are under orders never to reveal to Tuvok I said that."

He laughed. "My lips are sealed." He began to lean forward, but stilled when the chair creaked ominously. "Captain, I have an idea about the memorial service. See what you think about this."

Only a skeleton crew manned the essential posts; the rest of the crew was assembled in the cargo bay. A single pod lay in the center, the lid still open. Inside were one hundred and forty-seven mini PADDs.

The captain and first officer stood to the side. Captain Janeway walked behind the pod and faced her crew.

"The events of this past week have been both strange and traumatic for all of us. We are well aware of the dangers of space exploration, and especially this quadrant. I know the crew of this ship is strong, capable, and dependable, willing to serve, and if necessary, to give the ultimate sacrifice. Each PADD before us contains the name, rank, serial number, birth and death dates of an entire ship of dedicated people who did just that. They gave their lives to save the lives of all of us. We stand here today because of their sacrifice."

She scanned the crew, catching the eye of many. Maquis and Starfleet, seasoned officers like Tuvok, and juniors like Harry Kim. Many faces reflected their conflicted emotions. Her eyes lighted on Chakotay, an oasis of peace in the midst of the swirl of distress. His warm eyes gave her strength.

"We are indebted to the crew of that Voyager, and we can repay that debt by doing what they died to give us. The chance to live, the chance to continue our journey together, to work as one unit in getting this crew back home to the Alpha Quadrant." She looked at the contents of the pod. "This we vow to you: we will not give up, we will press on."

She nodded to Tuvok, and he and another security personnel stepped forward to seal the pod. Janeway laid her hand on the lid for a moment. "We will not forget you."

Resuming her place beside the commander, she waited as the old-fashioned whistle echoed in the cargo bay. A lonely sound, one that for centuries had heralded the passing of naval crewmen. Chakotay called the crew to attention, and the pod was slowly jettisoned through the forcefield into open space. Janeway sighed. In less than two years, she'd already done this more times than she cared.

After dismissing the crew, the commander turned to her. "Are you alright?" he inquired, placing a hand on her arm.

The times that he touched her were rare, but always brought her comfort. With a wry smile, she briefly laid her hand over his. "Just reflective. It isn't often that you commemorate the lives of nearly one hundred and fifty people at one time."

Maintenance was quickly back to work, and the command team began meandering their way around the repairmen to the lift. "I well remember what it was like after Wolf 359," he said. "The shock, the utter disbelief that anything could decimate the best of the fleet on such a magnitude. For a time, it seemed like the funerals and memorial services were never going to end."

The lift doors opened and they entered. It was her turn to touch his arm. "Chakotay, I haven't thanked you for your idea for the memorial service. Simple, yet so poignant. Each of us owe our lives to that crew."

He nodded. "I'm glad you approved. I have another suggestion for you, if you'll hear it."

"I'll always listen to your suggestions, Commander; I just may not always act on them," she replied with a smile.

"I hope you'll act on this one. Other than continuing repairs, there's nothing much going on at the moment. Why don't you take the afternoon off, and relax for a while? I'll mind the store until you get back." He unleashed one of his grins on her.

A tingle frissoned through her fingertips. That smile of his could beguile latinum out of a Ferengi, and she was going to have to be very careful. She chalked the strength of her reaction up to being a little wrung out from everything in the last few weeks. "Not a bad idea, actually. I can afford an hour or so. There's too much to do to take the whole afternoon off, considering that if the Vidiians stop by for a visit while we're in this state, we'll be just so many spare body parts." She issued an alternate command to the computer and the lift slowed to a stop.

Chakotay held the door open with his arm. "You know, by all accounts that we've gathered, that Voyager's history was the same as ours. Yet there had to be some little difference."

She stood just outside the door looking up at him. "How do you figure that?"

"By the fact that they were moments ahead of us initiating the pulse. Somehow, they'd reached that conclusion just enough before us that they started the pulse first. I wonder how that came about?"

Nodding slowly as she processed the thought, she answered, "Incredible to think what profound differences come out of tiny decisions. It could really make you crazy, and you'd wind up second-guessing your every action."

"Certainly if we'd thought of the pulse just those few seconds earlier, our ship wouldn't be in this condition. But you're right; you can go mad thinking like that. Anyway, I'll head to the bridge. Where will you be, Captain?"

"Airponics. I was raised a country girl, and mucking around with plants helps soothe my mind." She gave him a mock severe look. "Just don't break my ship while I'm gone, Commander." She looked around at a pile of rubble. "Or at least, what's left of it."

Another beautiful smile. "Aye, Captain. I'll do my best."

He always did, she thought, as she proceeded along to corridor toward Airponics. And his best was plenty good enough. Her background was science, so she'd never put much stock in fate, or "what if…?" but the last few days had made her unusually reflective. What if Chakotay had stayed in Starfleet, or hadn't left his homeworld to join Starfleet? Tuvok would have been on a different Maquis ship with a different captain, and who knew what that person might have been like?

A sudden thought ricocheted through her mind like an old-fashioned bullet, tearing at her so hard she stumbled, steadying herself against the corridor wall.

If Chakotay had never left his homeworld to join Starfleet, he probably would have been killed during the Cardassian attack that destroyed his village, his people, and most of his family.

"Are you alright, Captain?"

Janeway looked into the anxious face of Ensign Bronowski. "I'm fine, thank you, Ensign," she answered automatically. "I just remembered something I need to do. How are things in Airponics?" She deflected their conversation quickly. It wouldn't do to have the lower ranks think their captain was taking flights of fancy.

"We're getting things sorted out slowly," the young man replied. "Mostly the plants just got overturned. I'm heading to the mess hall now for lunch."

"Was there anyone else there when you left?" Like her, a number of the crew occasionally found solace in the Airponics Bay and right now, Janeway wasn't sure she wanted a lot of company.

"Just Kes. She's taking a little break from sickbay to do some of the transplanting she's been planning for a while. It's her way of relaxing."

At the name of their only Ocampa, Janeway felt herself relax. The young woman was merely two years old, yet she possessed a quiet, gentle demeanor that brought comfort to everyone. She'd always liked Kes, and after the girl's false elogium, the connection seemed even deeper, almost a mother-daughter relationship. Yet despite her youthfulness, Kes often managed to shed a different light to matters. It had given Janeway a severe jolt when Torres reported that Harry Kim had died, being pulled out the hull breach, and that Kes had mysteriously disappeared as well. The Ocampa was the one person Janeway would welcome seeing right now.

"Thank you, Ensign. Enjoy your lunch - if that's possible" she added with a smile.

The ensign gave a grimace. "With Neelix, you never know."

When she entered Airponics, the warm, moist scent of plants was the first thing she was aware of. Kes and her assistants had done a remarkable job of restoring the plants after the destruction caused when Kes' power was unleashed during their encounter with Suspiria, the Caretaker's mate. Blossoms, fruits, and vegetables abounded everywhere, contrasting starkly with the plain gray walls. It always felt to Janeway like a haven of beauty and life in the midst of the precarious existence that was the Delta Quadrant.

Kes wasn't visible, but Janeway could hear her humming. As she followed the sound around the laden shelves, she couldn't help smiling. The girl was humming one of the arias that the EMH loved so much. While the Doctor had been sharing his medical knowledge, and training Kes as his assistant, Kes in turn had been helping the EMH to become so much more than the original parameters of his programming.

"There you go; you should be much happier now. You'll be able to wiggle your toes and stretch out as much as you want."

As Janeway rounded that last corner, she came upon Kes setting a large pot on a shelf. Around her lay the tools she'd been working with, including several empty plant pots.

"Does talking to them help, Kes?"

The young woman whirled around. "Captain! I didn't hear you come in. I've been doing some research that says plants like being talked to, and that they also like music. Sometimes I have the computer play different musical selections."

Janeway reached out a hand to touch the beautiful pink blossoms. "And have they 'expressed' a preference for any particular musical style?" She was only half in jest, as her curious scientific side had been peaked.

"Well, I can tell you what they don't like," Kes replied with a smile.

"And that is…?"

"Neither Klingon music, nor heavy metal from the 20th century! When I tried that last week, in half an hour all their leaves had shrunk like they were trying to get away from it!"

Janeway laughed. "Why does that not surprise me? From what I know of both those musical genres, that's enough to make anyone shrivel up." She paused a moment in thought. "I wonder if we could program our weapons to carry a musical interlude from a Klingon opera. It might save us a lot of time in our many hostile engagements out here." With a sigh she dropped her hand from the bloom and turned away.

"Captain? Are you alright?"

It was the second time in less than ten minutes that one of her crew had asked her that. Her instinct was to immediately give the standard reply, but this was Kes. Her mental powers were rapidly developing, so there was no point in fabricating a lie.

Janeway continued to focus on another plant. She couldn't tell if it was a fruit, vegetable, or flowering plant. So much for being a country girl. "There's nothing really wrong, Kes. After this week, I'm just…" Just what?

"You're so used to giving, it's very hard to accept a sacrifice of such magnitude on your behalf. It's very humbling. It's okay to feel relieved to be alive."

Looking up quickly, she stared dumbfounded at the young Ocampa. Once again, Kes had seen to the center of her dilemma when she herself was still floundering, flailing in the sea of emotion. Survivor's guilt. Something Janeway was all too familiar with. "You're right, as you usually are, Kes. I feel guilty that they died on our behalf, yet at the same time, I feel relieved to be alive - that we're all still alive and able to continue our journey home. And that relief in itself makes me feel guilty."

Kes nodded solemnly. "It's very complex, isn't it? When I was on the alternate Voyager, their Doctor tried to console me over the death of Ensign Wildman's baby by saying that it sounded like we'd done all that we could. His saying that did bring me some comfort, yet at the same time, a part of me still felt sad and guilty, wondering if we'd missed something. I also felt a little angry because it was the proton pulses from their ship that caused our systems to fail, and that led to the baby's death."

Janeway's mind flashed back to the terrible time after her father and Justin died, but she was left alive. "We need to be sure to make the most of the second chance we've been given."

"It would certainly be the best way to honor them. Captain, could I ask you about the alternate universe? We had never thought of such a thing on Ocampa. Do you suppose that there's a universe for every possible variation?" As always when a new idea came to Kes, her pale eyes sparkled with excitement.

"I suppose it's possible. Commander Chakotay suggested to me that although the history of the alternate Voyager appeared to be the same, there must have been some slight difference, since they initiated the pulse before we did."

Kes frowned for a moment. "If there is a universe for every variation, that would mean that on some universe, I never became a part of Voyager's crew. That makes me feel very sad, because my life is so rich here. I can't imagine never having met all of you."

Trust Kes to see the constant stresses of their journey as an positive adventure.

Janeway patted the girl on the arm. "And we can't imagine our lives without you either, Kes."

After helping to transplant a few pots, she headed back to the bridge, musing on her discussion with Kes. If there were universes that represented every possible variation, that would mean any alternative she could think of, might actually exist.

A universe where Justin and her father hadn't died. And one where she and Justin had married. As she entered the turbo lift, a thought chilled her. Perhaps, there was a universe where Justin and his team of Rangers hadn't rescued her and Admiral Paris from the Cardassians. If that were true, she hoped she either died quickly, or another escape happened somehow. Life as a Cardassian prisoner was no life at all.

"Bridge." The lift began to move as possibilities continued to flood her mind. A universe where Voyager missed the displacement wave, or never even entered the Badlands. A universe where Voyager didn't even survive the pull into the Delta Quadrant. A universe where Voyager used the array to go back to the Alpha Quadrant. The thought of her people being back with their families made her smile. She might be married to Mark by now. But her smile faded as she considered the probable results to the Ocampa people.

The doors to the bridge opened, and she exited. Everything was normal: Tuvok was at his post, Harry was busily tapping his console, and Tom was at the helm. And Chakotay…

She stared at the man who had become her right hand, her friend. If they had used the array to return to the Alpha Quadrant, all of the Maquis would be in prison now, including Chakotay. And if Voyager had completely missed the wave, she would never have met him.

Both thoughts were unbearable.

If, if, if.

"Captain?"

The quiet voice of Tuvok snapped her out of her reverie. Her hesitation was drawing notice, so she called for a report as she strode to her chair.

Chakotay leaned toward her to quietly ask, "Are you alright?"

Three times now someone had asked her that, and she fought the urge to laugh hysterically.

"Was Airponics not the restful visit you hoped it would be?"

His face was very close to hers, yet she couldn't bring herself to draw back from him right now. She could see the small lines around his eyes, across his forehead. Lines of life. What if he hadn't wound up on her ship? What if she'd never even met him? That thought brought an ache to her that was almost physical. Even though she was here in the Delta Quadrant, as Kes had said, her life was so much richer for having met and come to know all these people, most especially the man sitting to her left. She might have missed this and never even realized. Would all those other things she might have been doing fill the huge canyon created by his absence? Was there a Kathryn Janeway somewhere who was wondering what was missing from her life?

"Captain?" Chakotay looked very worried now.

"I'm alright, Chakotay," she finally replied with a small smile. "Kes was in Airponics, and as she often does, she's given me a lot to think about."

"Ah, yes," he responded solemnly. "Our Kes does look at life with fresh eyes."

How like him to immediately understand. "Exactly. And," she made a wry face, "a couple of her questions are going to necessitate some self analysis on my part."

Chakotay's eyes were warm, and his smile sympathetic. "You could always contact your animal guide, or if you'd prefer, I have a pair of ears I'd be willing to loan you."

"Only a loan, not a permanent gift?" she teased. "There's many a time I could do with an extra set of ears."

Brown eyes began to sparkle. "Afraid not. I'm rather attached to them."

Janeway groaned and shook her head at him.

At the end of shift when they handed over to the Beta crew, Chakotay joined Janeway at the lift.

"How brave are you feeling this evening, Captain?" he asked with a grin.

"Why? What did you have in mind Commander, a Klingon workout on the holodeck?"

"No, something much more frightening than that. How about joining me for dinner in the mess hall?"

Her eyes opened wide in mock terror. "Oh, my. Now that is scary indeed. However, as long as you buy me coffee, you're on. Just give me half an hour to check how B'Elanna's doing in Engineering."

"While you're there, maybe you can persuade her to take a break and get something to eat as well," he suggested.

"I'll certainly give it a shot, but you know what it's like trying to pry that woman from her engines."

"Like trying to pry you away from your coffee," he muttered quietly.

"Pardon me? Did you say something?" she queried him with raise eyebrow.

Chakotay stood with hands clasped behind his back, staring at the lift doors. "No, nothing. Nothing at all."

Thirty-five minutes later, Janeway and Torres walked into the recently repaired mess hall.

"…repaired over 300 of the 632 microfractures along the hull's infrastructure. We've replicated all the parts for the warp coils in both nacelles, and we've almost completed repairs to the huge hull breach on Decks 14 and 15, and - "

At the sudden silence, Janeway looked behind her to see Torres stopped in her tracks, staring at Ensign Kim seated at a table, picking at his food.

"B'Elanna." Janeway placed a hand on the younger woman's arm.

The touch snapped the lieutenant out of her reverie, a look of chagrin on her face. "I know it's stupid, but I keep feeling I should have been able to do something to save him." Raking a hand through her hair, she snarled, "I was right there when he was swept away out that hull breach on Deck 15. I saw it, yet there he sits. It's just…I don't know." B'Elanna's words stumbled to a halt with a sigh of frustration.

"Weird?" Janeway supplied with a half grin.

B'Elanna's eyes flicked over to her. "Yeah, that's it exactly."

Janeway squeezed her arm slightly. "That's what Ensign Kim said too." She watched the lieutenant's eyes slide over to Kim and then away again. "B'Elanna, feeling guilty about things that are beyond your control is my area of expertise. I'll tell you what I've been told by many others: you can't control the whole universe, so you need to let go and move on."

At the younger woman's continued hesitation, Janeway spoke again. "You know that old saying, 'You win some, you lose some?' We've had so many losses out here, and this time, we won. We're still here, Ensign Wildman has her baby, and we still have Harry. From the moment you both met, he's been a good friend to you, B'Elanna, and right now," she glanced at the solitary, despondent looking young man, "he looks like he could use a friend."

Torres looked steadily at Kim still poking his food with a fork before walking over to Harrry's table. He greeted her with a relieved smile as she plunked herself into a chair.

"Dismissed," Janeway murmured bemusedly to herself. She grabbed a tray of food from Kes and surveyed the room until she spotted Commander Chakotay in the corner.

"What was that all about?" he queried her as she dropped into the seat opposite him.

"What?"

He jutted his chin in the direction of Harry and B'Elanna.

She smiled. "Even a tough ex-Maquis, half-Klingon can have trouble watching a friend die and then reappear."

Chakotay nodded. "Thank you for helping her. I could talk to her, but sometimes it helps to hear things from someone else."

Janeway waved her hand. "She's a part of my senior staff, and I need her operating at peak, now more than ever. And besides, I've been there - not being able to save someone you care about." Fork suspended in mid-air, her gaze drifted over his shoulder, sliding away into the cold past.

"Hey."

His gentle voice drew her back and she became aware of his sympathetic eyes on her. She automatically continued the journey of her fork to her mouth, and grimaced. "What is this?"

"No clue, but you can try this instead. It's not bad." He pivoted his plate around and pointed at something that looked like scrambled eggs.

She took a tentative taste. "You're right. It's not bad at all."

"So, you want to talk about it?"

Figured he wouldn't let it go. His question could apply to either her loss from the past, or what she and Kes had discussed this afternoon. She wasn't ready to share with him her experience on Tau Cetti Prime where her life had changed so dramatically, so she opted for the second choice. She took another mouthful of his dinner before replying.

"I told Kes about your thought that there must have been some slight difference between our ship and the alternate Voyager since they began the proton bursts just before we did. We know alternate universes exist, but Kes proposed the idea that there could be a different universe for every conceivable variation. It got me thinking of the many varied scenarios that I can imagine - let alone all the multitude of beings in the universe - and some of the consequences to those scenarios."

Chakotay's expression was thoughtful, and he slowly laid aside his utensils. "Interesting premise. If that were so, then there's a universe where my homeworld wasn't destroyed by the Cardassians." He drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, and paused when the probable result of that clicked for him. "And if Dorvan V was never destroyed, then I very likely would still be in Starfleet."

"And you and I would never have met." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

A slow smile spread over his face. "Oh no. I'm quite sure our paths would have crossed at some point."

Janeway shook her head at him. "Starfleet is a very large organization. It's impossible to meet everyone in it, even after years of serving. You were ahead of me, would have received your captaincy before me, and we could have been stationed on opposite sides of the Federation, for all we know. You still think we would have met?"

Chakotay sat in total stillness, yet there was a coiled intensity about him. "Of that I have no doubt," he replied with solemn conviction.

The conversation had taken a slippery, potentially dangerous turn, yet she couldn't tear her eyes from his face. Although they sat in the mess hall surrounded by their crew, it felt as though they were isolated within a separate time capsule. "How can you be so sure? That sounds a lot like destiny, and I've always believed in the scientific way, that a person determines their own fate."

"Are the two positions so opposed?" he queried. "I believe in both."

"How so?" she whispered. She felt on the cusp of something monumental, and if she spoke any louder, their sheltering bubble would be shattered.

He leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "I believe that each person has a destiny, but I also believe a person's actions or lack thereof can alter or bring that destiny to fruition. And any Chakotay who did not meet Kathryn Janeway has an elemental cornerstone missing from his life."

The echo of her own earlier thoughts in his words reverberated through her straight to the core of her being. Again she wondered, was there a Janeway somewhere contemplating what - or whom - was missing from her life?

"Captain."

She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or annoyed at the interruption. "Yes, Ensign?" Harry and B'Elanna stood at her elbow.

"B'Elanna - that is, Lieutenant Torres says that Sandrines is going to be running this evening. Would you be able to come along for a while, maybe give me some tips at pool? I need all the help I can get if I'm to ever have a chance against Tom."

The young man's face was smiling, but there was uncertainty in his eyes. She wondered if he was feeling uncertain about his acceptance by the rest of the crew, and looking for a buffer. Over his shoulder she could see B'Elanna and her slight nod. "I'm sure I can manage an hour or so. What about you, Commander?"

"I don't think I'll be much help to you at the pool table, Harry, but sure, I'll be there. I'm always happy to see Paris get a thrashing, and I'm sure the captain will provide that." He flashed a brilliant smile at her.

Janeway smacked his arm and tried to frown disapprovingly. Chakotay's relationship with Tom Paris had improved immensely ever since the two worked together and provided award-worthy acting performances during the hunt for the traitor onboard. It still amazed her that Tuvok had recommended that she leave her first officer out of the loop of that investigation. The commander had already proven himself instrumental with the routing of Seska, his former lover. Janeway was convinced that Tuvok had come as close to offense as a Vulcan can when she told him that his recommendation was illogical.

The relief on Harry's face was visible. "Great. That's really great. I'll see you both there."

As they turned to leave, B'Elanna glanced back over her shoulder and mouthed, 'Thank you.' Janeway nodded and watched as the two headed for the exit. Before they reached the doors, they swished open to admit Tom Paris.

"Harry!" he exclaimed. He clapped the younger man on the shoulder. "Just the guy I've been looking for. I've had an idea."

B'Elanna shook her head. "Uh-oh. I smell trouble."

Paris sniffed the air. "B'Elanna, you wound me. All I smell is Neelix's cooking. Now, let me tell you…" Their voices drifted away as the trio left the mess hall.

"I agree with B'Elanna," Janeway murmured.

"So do I. Although I can see the resemblance between Neelix's cooking and trouble," the commander replied.

Later in the evening, Janeway entered the holodeck to find a number of the crew gathered. Their down times were so few and far between that they all knew it was necessary to capitalize on every possible opportunity to relax. Most of the tables were full, and a crowd stood at the bar. Two pool tables were in use, while the third was empty. Voices were raised in laughter and conversation, and the music from the band in the corner made for a boisterous environment. Chakotay was already there working the room, easily mingling with both original 'Fleeters and Maquis.

"Hey doll, can I buy you a drink?" The holocharacter looked her up and down with a lascivious leer. It was the same character who had propositioned her the first time she'd ventured into this program with Harry. That felt like a lifetime ago.

"No thank you, I'm looking for a friend," she replied.

"Story of my life," the character mumbled. "All the good ones are taken."

Looking around the room, it was gratifying to see Harry at a table surrounded by a number of his friends. In the last year and a half, she'd been impressed with the crew's ability to adapt to whatever came its way. She wondered how many other Starfleet crews would be able to handle the constant day-to-day stress of surviving in a hostile quadrant where half the inhabitants seemed determined to destroy them.

"Captain, thanks for coming." Harry stood at her shoulder. "I've reserved a pool table for us. It seems your Harry's pool skills were no greater than mine." His expression was wry.

It was a small joke, but all the same, Janeway placed her hand on his arm reassuringly. "You're our Harry now. Come on. Let's see what we can do to beef up those skills."

Forty-five minutes later, Harry and Tom were engaged in a game that wasn't going as it usually did. Tom stood at the side of the table leaning on his cue, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. The teasing calls and whistles coming his way from the spectators indicated everyone thought a rout might be in the works.

It was not to be. Perhaps the excitement got to Harry, but in the end Tom triumphed again. He casually slung an arm around the younger man's shoulders.

"I'm going to have to watch my back, Harry-boy, if you keep hanging out with our resident pool expert." Tom cocked his head toward the captain. "Come on, I'll buy you a drink."

Janeway looked across the room to where Chakotay stood in conversation with Jor. The invisible link that often shimmered between them drew Chakotay's eyes to her at that moment. He flashed her a brief smile and returned to his conversation.

Like a one-two punch out of the commander's boxing holo program, two questions slammed into her mind, sending her reeling.

What if there was a universe where she fell in love with Chakotay?

What if this were that universe?

The dual thoughts ricocheted back and forth, resonating loudly to the very core of her being. What if…? What if…?

It was several seconds before her Starfleet training reasserted itself. She inhaled deeply, realizing she'd actually been holding her breath. 'Ridiculous!' her mind insisted. Starfleet captains don't fall in love with their first officers. She thrust the thought away from her as nonsense. Besides, she was in love with Mark. Turning, she exited the holodeck without a backward glance to return to her quarters for the night.

Over the next several weeks, the primary focus of the entire crew was to get the ship fully functional again. The damage to Voyager was so extensive, every area and every system had been affected. Even the Doctor worked in Sickbay, doing his part to make Voyager "healthy" again. Janeway remarked to Chakotay after the staff meeting one morning that she felt like her ship was being held together with baling wire and two sticks of gum.

Their desperate need for compounds that could not be replicated led them to the Drayans, a very private race, according to Neelix. Scans indicated that a vein of polyferranide ran three kilometers long on one of their moons, and Janeway hoped to negotiate for the material needed to seal the warp core and prevent the nacelles from burning out. The polyferranide acquired at the planet where Commander Chakotay encountered the Sky People was insufficient to deal with the recent tremendous strain on the systems.

"When I was a science officer, I used to envy the captain's privilege of making first contact with new races," Janeway told Chakotay as they went to greet Alcia, First Prelate of Drayan II.

He turned to her with a smile. "Once, I almost got myself shipped back to the Academy for remedial training. I had studied all the information we had about the Tarkanian culture, and pestered the captain into letting me to be part of the diplomatic team. I very proudly made the traditional gesture of hello, not realizing that males and females of their race use different styles of movements."

"Uh-oh. What had you actually done?"

"I had unknowingly propositioned the ambassador," he replied with some chagrin.

Janeway shook her head. "Just make sure you don't do that today, Commander."

It was not the commander's tribal greeting of om-nah-hoo-pez-nyeetz, which meant 'peace in your heart, fortune in your steps' that nearly caused a diplomatic incident, but Tuvok's crashing on a sacred Drayan moon, and misunderstanding of the nature of the Drayans.

Later, when Chakotay entered the Ready Room to inform her the away team was finished mining the polyferranide, Janeway laid aside the PADD she'd been reading. "I just finished Tuvok's report. For a Vulcan, his sketchy details concerning Tressa's crysata are quite notable." She pointed to the coffee pot on the edge of her desk, and Chakotay helped himself.

"I've never seen what I would call humility in Tuvok before, but I'm sure even he was aware of the rare privilege that had been granted to him to witness Tressa's passing." Chakotay grimaced at his first sip of the brew and added another lump of sugar.

"Who would have thought there would be a race where the people regressed as they aged? Tressa was the best-looking ninety-six-year-old I've ever seen." Her grin vanished quickly. "How did Ensign McCormick take the news about Ensign Bennett's death?"

Chakotay pulled on his ear, a sure sign he was a little befuddled. "Actually, I have to give credit where credit is due. Tuvok asked to accompany me when I told her, and he explained to her how it happened as a result of the crash. Although she was naturally upset, it seemed to help her a great deal. For a Vulcan, he showed great sensitivity and compassion, both while Bennett was dying and with McCormick. I have to admit, I was surprised and impressed."

Janeway sighed, and turned to look out her viewport. "Another funeral. It seems like it's never-ending out here. It doesn't matter if it's nearly one hundred and fifty deaths or one, it's still too many as a result of being in this quadrant. It could just as easily have been B'Elanna or even Ensign Wildman looking for a little break off the ship." What if it had been him? What if this was the universe where- She ruthlessly shoved the thought away, mentally reciting what had become her mantra over the last couple of weeks. Starfleet captains don't fall in love with their first officers. Besides, she was in love with Mark.

"Or you."

Janeway's head snapped up, catching the brief look of anguish on Chakotay's face before he masked it. "What?"

"If you had decided you needed a break from the ship, it could have been you that Tuvok gave comfort to that day on the Drayan moon." Although his face was impassive again, his body radiated tension.

Janeway murmured thoughtfully, "There aren't any guarantees out here."

"No there aren't," Chakotay agreed.

They regarded one another solemnly for a moment before he spoke again. "Captain, there's a holodeck program of a gym that a number of us use most evenings, and I wondered if you'd like to come along tonight. It might help to work off some stress, and help refocus."

What if there's a universe where you fall in love with him? What if this is that universe? Her instinct was to decline, to keep her distance. But as much as Starfleet encouraged captains to maintain "command distance" from their crew, they also encouraged a counterbalance of mingling with the crew, allowing them to see the captain as a real person. Often, it engendered even greater respect from the crew. Plus, the commander was right; she needed a healthy outlet to de-stress.

"Who designed the program?" she asked.

"I did. Then Mike Ayala tweaked it bit, and Gerron added his own touches-"

"Ah-hah!" she exclaimed. "It's a Maquis plot to take over my ship."

He frowned at her for a moment before realizing she was teasing. "Uh-oh. You weren't supposed to find out. We've spent the last year and a half lulling you into a false sense of security. Now we'll have to start all over again. We were going to 'muscle' our way in."

"Muscle your way in, huh? I'll show you muscle, mister. Does the program have a track too?"

"It does. I should warn you, I did very well back home in the foot races."

She narrowed her eyes. "Was that a challenge, Commander? Because if it was…"

When she entered the holodeck later that evening, Chakotay was already there, spotting Ayala on the bench press. He looked up as she entered and nodded. Both men wore shorts and tank tops. Janeway began removing the outer track pants and jacket she had worn to walk to the holodeck.

"Carlson, keep your right up or he's going to clock you."

She finished hanging the suit on a peg and looked up at Chakotay's call in time to see the young former Maquis in the sparring ring take a hit on his padded helmet, landing hard on the mat. At that moment, Chakotay turned to her and seemed to freeze, his jaw going slightly slack. Heat was in his dark gaze.

She was wearing her old Academy workout gear of black shorts, gray sleeveless t-shirt, her hair in a long braid down her back. Nothing spectacular, yet the look in his eyes said he saw something much more than just his commanding officer. And for one of the rare times in the last two years, Kathryn Janeway felt like a woman.

"Hey, Chakotay, I could do with some help here." The grunted words came from Ayala, struggling with the weight.

Chakotay quickly grabbed at the bar. "Sorry, Mike."

Ayala complained as he sat up, "You zoned out on me, man. Where'd you go?" His eyes followed where Chakotay was looking once again, and his jaw dropped. "Oh. Uh, hi Captain."

"Good evening, Lieutenant," she replied briskly. If nothing else, she felt the need to get herself refocused. "You don't mind if I borrow your spotter, do you?"

"Not at all, Ma'am." At her grimace, Ayala continued with a lazy smile. "I'm working the weights; that's crunch time for me."

She laughed, delighted the man felt relaxed enough that he could joke with her like this. "I see the inter-departmental grapevine is alive and well. Ready to hit the track, Commander?"

"Ready when you are, Captain."

"Let's do it."

They started off walking to warm up, then began an easy jog. They soon adjusted to each other's stride, and the only sounds were their breathing, the rhythmical footfalls, and the slap of Janeway's braid against her back. Other people came and left the gym but the noises faded into the background. There was a primal element to the exercise that was very freeing. Simply the movement of her own body, reconnecting with herself, her muscles in a way that was different from her usual workouts of velocity or Klingon training programs.

Her concerns for the ship, her crew, for safety and survival, even what had become the primary goal of her life - to get them home - all slid away from her. Awareness centered on her breath, the swing of her arms. And the solid form of the large quiet man moving easily beside her, always in step with her.

After forty-five minutes, of one accord, they gradually slowed their pace, and returned to a walk. Eventually, they stopped and began cool-down stretches.

For an hour, no words had been spoken between them, yet Janeway knew the connection that had been there from the beginning of their relationship was stronger than ever. And for some reason, it didn't bother her at the moment; the mantra was as silent as they were.

Chakotay nodded his head toward the boxing ring, and headed off. B'Elanna had arrived while they'd been running, and although she'd been startled to see the captain, the two women now teamed up as spotters for each other on the weights. Work never came into question until Joe Carey arrived with a PADD for B'Elanna's approval. While she stepped away, Gerron took over as spotter for Janeway on the bench press.

"Captain, I gotta say, I'm pretty impressed. I never thought you Starfleet brass were into this sorta thing," the young man said.

Janeway sat up and rubbed her shoulder. "By 'this sorta thing' I assume you mean weight lifting. It was mandatory back at the Academy. It's important to maintain strength and fitness, because you never know when you could be in hand-to-hand battle, fighting for your life."

"Well, Torres can press a lotta weight, but I never thought a broad, ah, a lady like yourself-" His eye widened and he stumbled at her quirked eyebrow. "I mean, I just never thought, you being a woman captain, ah, that is-"

Chakotay's voice sounded behind her. "I think you'd better quit while you're still alive, Gerron."

The former Maquis' eyes darted around wildly, looking for any escape. "Uh, yeah. Oh, there's my training buddy, Baxter. Gotta go. Captain, Chakotay."

Janeway watched the rapidly retreating Gerron head across the room. "That was interesting. I'm not sure if I should be insulted or if B'Elanna should."

"Just take it as a positive sign that Gerron would actually talk to you at all," Chakotay replied. "He's always been extremely shy and withdrawn."

"I'm not sure this encounter will help to change that or not," she murmured. "Although I'm glad to see Walter Baxter here. I was beginning to wonder whether this was indeed a Maquis hideout."

Chakotay took a pull at his water bottle, silently gesturing toward the door where Ensign Kim and Crewman Chell entered at the same time. He handed Janeway a towel and used another to wipe the sweat from his face. "Ready to go?"

As she placed her hand on his broad forearm, the muscles twitched underneath her hand. His skin was hot to the touch, and she resisted the urge to snatch her hand away. "Chakotay, thank you for suggesting this. It really helped to clear away the cobwebs, the hovering regrets of yesterday and the worries about tomorrow." She used the excuse of waving her hand around to withdraw it.

"You're welcome, Captain. Glad to help. My father had a saying - I don't remember it exactly. Something about living today because it's a gift."

Eyes closed, she drew the words up from her memory. "Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift; that's why it's called the present."

He looked at her in amazement. "That's it! How did you know?"

She laughed. "I think our parents must have subscribed to the same traditionalist magazine, because my mother used to quote that at me - and I do mean AT me - all the time whenever she thought I had my head too deeply buried in my studies. 'Live in the here and now, Kathryn,' she used to say."

"Not bad advice, actually."

She made a face. "You're as bad as she was. The only thing is, the decisions of the past affect the present, and the decisions of the present affect the future."

The expression on his face was bleak as he turned his face away and muttered, "Don't I know it."

They stopped just outside the holodeck doors, nodded to a couple of passing crewmen before she asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Chakotay leaned against the bulkhead, crossed his arms over his muscular chest. He heaved a great sigh before his eyes finally returned to hers. "Seska. So many of the problems we've dealt with out here are a result of me getting involved with her."

Again, Janeway placed her hand on his arm, and again, she felt the muscles twitch under her fingers. "Chakotay, she was a highly trained operative. The Obsidian Order spared no time or expense on training their undercover agents. You need to stop blaming yourself for that. No one here does."

With a steely expression, he retorted, "Physician, heal thyself."

"Pardon?" Frowning, she pulled her hand from his arm.

He jutted his chin at her. "I will if you will. You've been blaming yourself from the get- go for stranding us here in the Delta Quadrant."

She gaped at him. "How-?"

The dark planes of his chiseled face were intense and earnest as he bent toward her. "I see it in your eyes every time something bad happens, or there's a birthday or anniversary, some reminder that we're here and not home. Captain, no one blames you." At her snort, he amended, "I'm not saying the crew doesn't miss home, and wouldn't prefer to be there than here. But all they need to do is take one look at Kes. If we'd used the array to get home, we all know what would have happened to those gentle people if the Kazon took over their world. So I'll stop blaming myself for Seska, if you stop blaming yourself for destroying the array. Deal?"

His hand was extended toward her. It was a large hand, strong and reliable, like the man himself. She was astonished to realize Chakotay had watched her that closely, that he knew her so well.

To let go, to give up the self-flagellation, the indulgence of guilt for a decision that was the right one, one that she would make again if she had to. She placed her hand in his and shook it. "Deal."

He grinned at her. "If it's any consolation to you, the alternate-universe captain confirmed your decision; she also destroyed the array. And two Kathryn Janeways can't be wrong."

She looked at their hands still clasped. "And if it's any consolation to you, it's obvious that you became much more than just an assignment to Seska."

He looked down for a moment, contemplating her words. "No, I can't say that it does. There are some decisions in life that will always be well-coated in regret.

"Don't I know that," she murmured bleakly. A chill swept over her, as cold as the blustery wind on Tau Ceti Prime. She was surrounded by a blanket of stark white, unbroken save for the gaping slash of inky black frigid waters, swallowing her life, swallowing her past and her future.

A warm touch on her arm. "Hey."

The rush back into herself almost left her staggering. She was here on Voyager, outside the holodeck, standing beside her first officer, whose dark eyes regarded her with gentle compassion.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked quietly.

"Perhaps some day." She wasn't ready to share the darkest time of her life just yet.

"Any time. I mean that," he told her sincerely.

She smiled. "I know you do. You know Chakotay, regrets aren't always about wrong decisions. Sometimes it's about circumstances you wish could be otherwise."

He nodded. "And sometimes it's about right decisions that you wish could be otherwise."

Back in her quarters, she considered her own words. Sometimes it's about circumstances you wish could be otherwise.

Chakotay was a man of strength, integrity, passion, and compassion. He had the perfect balance of being smart and wise. He could be serious, or he could be witty, and he knew the right place and time for each. In many ways, he was her perfect match. Except one.

"If only," she murmured to herself. Sighing, she turned to her bedroom. It didn't matter what she might want; she was still his commanding officer. As she entered her bedroom, the shimmering starlight glinted on the edge of the silver picture frame beside her bed. Although she couldn't see the picture in the dark, she knew what it was. "Besides," she said out loud, "I love Mark."

Somehow the mantra was losing its omnipotent grip, and tonight the questioning voices remained like a clarion bell. What if…? What if…?

© Brianna Thomas, January 2007 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.