The BLTS Archive - Academy Lives
by Quadrantje (quadrantje@hotmail.com)

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A/N: This is the third and last - yes, I'm sure this time - installment in
my Academy series, which started with Academy Days and Academy Years. I wrote it
more than a year ago, but was never quite satisfied with it so it got left to
collect dust on my hard drive. However, with my fanfic anniversary today, I
decided to find all those finished but never posted stories and finally give
them a place here. So here it is, hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: not mine, not making any profit (except a possible review or two),
so calm down and throw away that lawsuit.

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I hesitate just outside the classroom, a sudden unease coming over me. It's been
years since I was here last in any official capacity and even then I was only
following a few guest courses. This place is so unfamiliar, in nothing
resembling the schools at which I normally teach. Uniforms and ranks, tactics
and security; it's all so alien to me. I'm a scientist, what am I doing here?
But I agreed; I can't back out now.

Relax, I tell myself, it will be just fine. I steel my nerves and as I walk in I
feel my trepidation lifting. I see the lectern and the projector, the students
in their perfect Starfleet uniforms, and I know: this place is in my blood. My
spirits renewed, I walk to the front of the classroom, where I fumble with the
projector before moving to my place behind the lectern. I take a deep breath,
and look into the classroom. And as I do so, for a moment I could swear I saw my
parents, standing in the back of the room. My mom looking at me with a piercing
gaze in those eyes as blue as my own. My dad, peaceful as always, his support
for me visible in the confidence of his stance and the pride on his face,
standing right behind her. My breath hitches and the next moment they're gone.
Yes, this place is in my blood, because it was in theirs. I continue gazing at
the room and make it my own. Then I start to speak, and as I speak, I see the
students getting their PADDs, scribing down notes. I hear the happy chatter give
way to silence as they listen. I feel the atmosphere of the room change into one
I have felt during a hundred different lectures, in dozens of places and on all
sorts of subjects. And I realise the Academy is not so different from any other
college. They just wear uniforms.

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Seeing her walk into the Academy lecture hall, I am reminded of the first
educational oration I saw here, in an area not unlike this one, though today it
is filled for a different reason. Then the students were attracted to the
distinction of hearing the renowned Voyager Command Team, but since then they've
adapted, and at present they are motivated by her knowledge and not her status.
Looking at her though, I am aware I have formed a mental association between
that time and the present. It is not merely sentimental; their appearances do
show resemblances. The calmness of her speech is very much like the Commander's.
Unconsciously, she mimics the Captain in the way her extremities substantiate
her words. Instead of listening as she narrates her lecture, I merely watch, as
the layers of time overlap and the older couple merges with the young woman.
Before I know it the lecture has finished. The students leave, talking and
exchanging gossip as always. I walk to the front of the classroom, where she is
mishandling the projector again. She turns around, surprised to see me here.

'Kaya Janeway, subunit of Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay,' I say as I greet her.
She laughs delightedly at my joke.

'Aunt Seven,' she teases back, 'it's so good to see you.'

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The End