SYMBOLS

EPILOGUE

Captain Chakotay smiled from the memory. When they met for dinner tonight, he might quiz Kathryn Janeway about her comment. He knew that talking about the Anawin people would bring a smile to her lips. Anything that reminded her of their time aboard Voyager tended to invoke a sense of warm nostalgia. Not that life on board the Federation Starship had always been easy, on the contrary, but since their safe return home, perhaps their recall of the seven years had become a little sweetened.

He stared off into the crowd of students' faces. The room was very quiet - a good indication he had captured their attention. Chakotay had always found storytelling was a great approach when teaching. That's why he and Tuvok often butted heads when they were asked to present jointly. Tuvok liked to give the facts while Chakotay preferred to give his listeners a real taste of the emotions and characters behind the facts, just as he had tried to do with his rendition of the Anawin people.

Finally, he picked up the instrument he'd placed across the front of the podium. He turned the carved, wooden R'din over in his hands but he didn't try to play it. Maybe Harry Kim might have been able to get some acceptable notes out of it. But Chakotay was pretty sure whatever sound he made, it would only diminish the strength of his speech so far and distract his audience. He raised the musical instrument high up over his head.

"An offering!" he shouted, and startled his listeners. "In exchange for protection." He recalled it as the chant of the Anawin people. It was reflected in the musical instrument he now held and in B'Elanna's piece of woven gold chain, as well as in a necklace made of tiny white shells that Harry Kim had parted with, and most importantly, in a young woman who would offer her life to save a child. A young Anawin woman named Kylanina.

***

Thirty thousand light years away, in the heart of the Delta Quadrant, the morning sun rose and the great Anawin City began to come alive.

An 8-year old girl sat on the edge of her bed and stared out a small window, gazing down the grass-covered hillside to watch the people jostle and push each other as they walked the wind-swept, overcrowded streets below. The young girl had very long, wavy red hair and beautiful azure blue eyes.

"Good morning," an older woman spoke, kissing the child on the top of her head and interrupting her daydreams. "I see you've been busy again, even though you should have been asleep." The woman carefully lifted up the new painting her daughter had created. The paint was still slightly damp. "Who's this one?" she asked.

The child glanced up at the vast collection of pictures that already filled up most of the available wall space of her bedroom. A multitude of alien faces in strange uniforms and unusual settings stared back at her. She smiled at the assortment of images she'd copied from her memory.

She shifted a few of her pictures around to make room for the new one. The images were unrecognizable to anyone else, yet to the child, they seemed so real. Harry playing hoverball. Neelix handing her a doll with spiky yellow hair. Seven of Nine in astrometrics. The Doctor in his sickbay. Captain Janeway pushing her on a swing. There were lots of pictures of Captain Janeway.

She never doubted their existence, even though she knew her mother really didn't believe her every time she spoke of Voyager and added another new picture to the wall.

The child blew a few puffs of air over her painting and gently touched the surface. It had dried. Then she stuck it up on the wall. She gazed at the tanned, tattooed face that smiled down at her alongside the others.

"That's Chakotay," Tayna said excitedly. "He's the one who saved us!"

The woman wrapped her arms around her jubilant daughter, holding her tight.