Fifteen years, and I still dream about my last night on Voyager. Dinner in her cabin – candles. That surprised me. We’d had many working dinners over the years but never like this. Yet her attitude was all business. "Are you with me?" she asked, and I said "Always." Always.

We talked about the Alpha quadrant while we ate, about what was waiting for us when we arrived. The only thing we knew with certainty was that it would be crazy for a while, with debriefings, and inquiries, and press conferences. And possibly trials, although we hoped it wouldn’t come to that. And then her command mask cracked. She suddenly seemed shy. "That’s why I want to bring this up tonight," she said. "There may not be a chance once we’re back. When Starfleet finally turns us loose, I plan to spend some time at Lake George, and I was wondering," she added almost hesitantly, "if you would like to join me?"

I was stunned, and thought I must be misinterpreting her. There was a time when I thought she and I might become more than friends, but I had given up on that idea more than a year ago. Neither of us were willing to risk the welfare of the ship for the sake of a personal relationship. Still, part of me always hoped that someday, after we were home or if we were in the Delta quadrant long enough, we might take a chance after all.

Now, it seemed that she had been thinking along the same lines. I looked at the candles and then at those remarkable eyes of hers - eyes suddenly vulnerable and hopeful. Then I looked closely at the flowers and saw a single red rose amid the more exotic blooms, and I knew that I was not mistaken. "I would like that very much," I told her, and the smile she gave me in return warmed me to my soul.

Fifteen years, and I still see that smile when I dream.

The next day, Harry and I took the Delta Flyer and led the way for Voyager in the slip-stream. We still don’t know exactly what happened; one instant, the ship was right there with us, and then suddenly we were alone. Voyager disappeared, and we had no options but to continue on alone through the slip-stream conduit. We made it home, just Harry and I.

We received a hero’s welcome to the Alpha quadrant, but I felt as if I were watching it from a distance. It all had an unreal quality. I couldn’t conceive how I could be there without Kathryn, without the rest of the crew. I alternated between believing that they were alive but lost in the Delta quadrant without me, and understanding that they must be dead. I’m not sure which was worse.

Kathryn had been right about the craziness. Press conferences, debriefings… Starfleet convened a board of inquiry on her command, based on the logs she downloaded into the Flyer as a precaution. As her XO, I answered for her. In the end, she was completely exonerated and commended. Instead of making me feel better, all I could think was that she never knew.

They offered me any position I wanted – teaching, command – and gave me a month to think it over. I left San Francisco without a real plan but found myself in Indiana, knocking at the door of the Janeway farm.

I almost broke down when I met Gretchen Janeway, she was so much like her daughter. Small, fine-boned and possessed of that same sense of presence. She welcomed me warmly, despite my unannounced arrival, and we talked about Kathryn and Voyager. Sharing this with her felt more real than anything I had been through with the counselors or the admirals, and she seemed to need it as much as I. She invited me to stay a few days and I accepted gratefully.

She had many questions, and listened patiently to my replies. On the third day, we went for a walk in the late afternoon. It was autumn, a cool day, and the trees were at peak color. We walked in companionable silence for quite a while, and then she said without warning, "I’m glad she had you. I don’t think anyone else ever loved her so much."

I stopped, confused. "We were good friends, Gretchen, but nothing more. We couldn’t let it be more."

She smiled at me sadly. "I have listened to you talk about her for three days, watched your face. You loved her. More, you loved her unselfishly, and that is a very rare thing."

I did break down then, the first and only time I wept for all that was lost. Gretchen held me as my own mother would have, and comforted me. I confessed my guilt to her, my fear that I could have talked Kathryn out of it, if I had been more forceful. She closed her hands over mine. "In all the years you worked with her, my dear, were you ever able to change her mind once she had made a decision?

"Once." I had been able to persuade her not to carry out the Omega directive alone. In five years, that was the only time I succeeded in changing her mind.

Gretchen laughed gently. "Consider it a victory. Janeways don’t change their mind, it’s a genetic trait. I think Edward reversed himself perhaps twice in thirty-five years with Starfleet. It wasn’t your fault." I almost believed her.

Later that night she gave me a set of keys. "The cabin at Lake George," she said. "I haven’t been there in years, and with Phoebe living off-planet, it’s just gathering dust."

I left the next day, wondering if I was just punishing myself. When I stood on the deck of the cabin and looked at the crystal water, though, I felt a sense of rightness. Kathryn’s holodeck program had captured the beauty of the place but not its essence. I thought I could find peace there.

When my leave was up, I accepted a position at the Academy until a deep space mission was available. I stayed in close touch with Harry, who was going through a rough time, and with Gretchen. She became my family, and I hers. Otherwise, though, I lived a fairly isolated life. The cabin became my permanent residence, and Gretchen gave me the deed as a birthday present.

Two years after our return, Starfleet launched two deep space missions to the Delta quadrant, as both exploration and a search for Voyager. While we had been lost across the galaxy, they had developed the next generation of warp engines and we could return almost to the Caretaker’s array in years instead of decades. Harry shipped out on the Glenn as its second officer, and I was in command of the Gregarin. Two ships, four years – and no sign of Voyager. Even I had to conclude that they had not survived the slip stream; no Delta quadrant inhabitant had seen or heard of the ship since the incident, and there was no trace of a beacon or distress signal. If they had landed safely somewhere, I knew Kathryn would have found a way to get a signal out.

Starfleet recalled both ships after four years. Harry was furious, and resigned. I almost envied him the anger he felt. I felt nothing about anything. The realization that Voyager was truly lost left me numb and hollow. I declined another command and returned to the Academy; a captain needs to feel to be effective. A scientist does not.

Harry dropped out of sight. I returned to the cabin and went through the motions every day, but time pretty much ran together. The longer I lived in isolation the easier it was to stay that way. Each day was like the one before and the one after, distinguished occasionally by extreme weather. I taught without much interest in my students; I published without passion for my topics.

Then, almost exactly ten years after the Delta Flyer’s return, I met Tessa Omond.

Actually, it was Gretchen who introduced us. She had known Tessa’s parents, both Starfleet officers, for years. Tessa decided against the Academy, choosing instead a career as an independent pilot. She was twenty-six years old when I met her – less than half my age – and she exuded a confidence and a sense of purpose that reminded me forcefully of Kathryn.

I still don’t understand it, but she claims it was love at first sight for her. It was not that simple for me. My emotions had been in stasis for a long time, and I had become comfortable with my solitary life. But she pursued me with determination and with humor, making herself impossible to ignore. For a long time - years actually - I held her at bay, worried about the difference in our ages, even more about whether I could return her feelings as she deserved. I equivocated for so long that even Gretchen became impatient with me. But Tessa’s joy in life became irresistible. When you have lived without it for so long, joy can be very seductive.

She moved in with me when I wasn’t looking. I just went to work one morning, and when I returned, her belongings were mixed with mine in the cabin. She knew about Voyager, of course, and eventually I was able to tell her about Kathryn. Amazingly, she understood.

Gretchen once told me that unselfish love is a rare thing, but that is exactly what Tessa gave me. Gives me still. I don’t deserve it.

We’d been living together about a year when Starfleet recovered the Borg temporal link. I’d just been promoted to Vice Admiral (and wouldn’t Tuvok have appreciated the irony in that?) and since I was considered an expert on Borg technology – another irony – I was assigned to head up the team to study the thing. We’d been at it about six months when Harry Kim resurfaced.

He contacted me at home, and I almost didn’t recognize him. The innocent young ensign of Voyager was long gone. This man was hard and bitter, and aged beyond his years. At first I thought he just wanted to talk about old times, but instead he revealed a half-conceived, amazing proposal. He wanted to steal the temporal link, take the Flyer and go back to the Delta quadrant. "I know what went wrong," he said. "I made a mistake. But with the temporal link, I can fix it. Voyager can make it back."

"You’re talking changing history," I said.

"I’m talking about fixing history," he retorted.

It sounded insane, and I told him so. But that night I lay awake, going over it again and again, and I realized it could work. It could work.

Tessa woke in the morning and looked at my face. "You’re going to do it, aren’t you?"

I nodded. "I have to. I have to try."

She gave me a lopsided smile. If there was a flash of pain in her eyes, she hid it quickly. "They can take the Admiral out of the Maquis, but they can’t take the Maquis out of the Admiral," she said lightly. "Count me in."

"No." I was touched by her willingness but wanted to protect her. It was likely that we’d end up in prison or dead before this was over.

"Yes." We argued, and of course she won. She can be very stubborn. She is very like Kathryn in that respect, also.

It took a few more months to work out the details of the plan, and then we had to wait another couple of months for security conditions to be right. And then, with as little regret as I once felt stealing from the Cardassians, I used my rank and my security clearance to steal the Borg device and the upgraded Delta Flyer from Starfleet. Before we left the sol system, I sent a message to Gretchen, telling her goodbye.

And now I’m back in the Delta quadrant, once again a fugitive from Federation justice. We have a pretty good idea where to look for Voyager, based on a comparison of the data from the Glenn and the Gregarin. By this time tomorrow, it could all be over. The past fifteen years erased.

I look at Tessa and I doubt. She has given me so much and received so little in return. It was everything I had left to give, but in truth it wasn’t much. Even now she is helping me in spite of the hurt it causes her. How can I do this to her?

Then I look at Harry and see the ravages of guilt. I see B’Elanna in his eyes, and Paris, and all the others. I see the Harry that used to be.

I close my eyes, and I see Kathryn’s smile.

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