"... Let's put it back up where it belongs." Commander Chakotay said after they wiped off the debris from Voyager's dedication plaque. He began to walk over to its original mount.
Captain Janeway was distracted. Her thoughts were spinning as she contemplated her recent actions. She still wondered why the hell she had been so angry as to make stopping Ransom her priority over the safety of her ship. Sure, he'd betrayed everything Starfleet had taught him. But her own behavior in response had been more than reckless. A mental gasp almost became a real one as she remembered how Crewman Lessing was nearly killed by her in the cargo bay. If Chakotay hadn't intervened...
She suddenly noticed Chakotay struggling with Voyager's plaque.
"Here," she offered, "Let me help you."
Their next weekly dinner gave them a chance to talk about repair progress, how the five Equinox crewmen were adjusting, and more …
"... Neelix says the five of them were looking pretty forlorn at their table before it happened." He explained, "None of them were talking much. Then Morrow brought up some topic of controversy that Lessing adamantly opposed. The argument became heated and one punch was thrown before some other crew members in the mess hall intervened."
Janeway rested her hand against the side of her face in contemplation, looking up from her mostly untouched plate, "And what was Morrow's report of what happened. Did he mention what that controversial topic was?"
"None of them will say." Chakotay took another bite of his salad, waiting for her witty remark. When it didn't come, he realized there was something else. He glanced at her to find her focusing somewhere far past the floor behind him, deep in thought. The evening had started out cordial enough, but her responses had gradually become shorter and late. Chakotay studied her for a moment, wondering, "... did you want me to throw them in the brig until they do?"
A hint of a grin formed fleetingly on her lips before she looked down at her plate. It was evident by his tone that he was trying to keep the mood light, but the current topic of her thoughts led her to ponder whether she would've accepted his suggestion just a few hours ago. Janeway shook her head, "They're all doing as well as can be expected. It will take time."
"It will also take counseling." he said, ignoring his food as he held a steady gaze at her.
Janeway raised an eyebrow at him,"Are you offering?"
"If it's alright with you. If not, the Doctor is equally willing."
By his tone and his continued gaze, Kathryn got the distinct impression that they weren't just talking about the Equinox crew anymore. She studied his face. It was calm and gave no hint of any inner turmoil that hid beneath. She could only imagine what he was feeling. If it was anything like her own reflections on her behavior, then he was confused and irritated to say the least. She couldn't blame him. They hadn't talked much about it since that short moment on the bridge before they became caught up in repairs. Perhaps now was the time.
"Chakotay..." she began, and suddenly realized there were too many places to start, "About my actions..."
When she didn't continue, he voiced his frustration, "I just want to know why. Why did this become such a high priority for you?"
Now it was her turn to ask herself that question one more time. Because she still couldn't believe the answer. Yet she still had only one, "I was angry."
He looked as though he accepted that answer as much as she did, "I know how it is to be angry. To want vengeance against someone-hell-against an entire race, for their injustice. But I know where to draw the line. I know when to reign in my anger before it turns me into the enemy. And I know you've been better at doing that than I've ever been."
"Until now." she added.
"Until now," he agreed.
She carefully placed her napkin on the table and stood up, walking over to the bulkheads look out the window. It gave her time to gather her thoughts, "Honestly, I'm still struggling to understand my motive. I was ... beyond angry. I was infuriated, and fixated on stopping Ransom at all costs. But every time I replay the situation in my mind, I can't evoke that level of rage. Nothing even close to it."
She turned around to face him, "And yet, I had let that rage consume me. I let it affect my better judgment. I endangered this ship, it's crew, and once I nearly-" She stopped, and braced herself with a hand against the bulkhead. That memory of Crewman Lessing in the cargo bay was horrifying her more and more, every time she recalled it. She had nearly murdered a Starfleet officer. Unarmed, and without so much as a trial. "What the hell was wrong with me?" she rasped.
She forced herself to push away from the bulkhead and face him once again, "Chakotay, if you hadn't stopped me … well, we may not be having this dinner now."
He placed his own napkin on the table, stood up, and crossed the room to stand in front of her, "Sounds to me like you're back to yourself again."
His comment suddenly sparked a scenario she hadn't yet considered, "Chakotay, you don't think … that my mind was being influenced by the nucleogenic aliens somehow?"
"It's hard to say. You were making decisions that aided their motives, and it all started after the fissures opened on Voyager. After you were attacked."
"But if they could affect human minds, why didn't they try to control Ransom's?"
"Maybe they had been trying to. Our species is very different. We had trouble communicating with them. Maybe they've been trying to persuade Ransom and his crew for a while, but only recently succeeded in understanding how our minds worked. He did seem uncharacteristically cooperative at the end."
"And I uncharacteristically trusted him when he asked for our assistance to stop his first officer." Janeway was beginning to piece together the new scenario in her mind. But it was still just a theory. There was no hard evidence ...
"I'm going to sickbay. Perhaps the Doctor can confirm all of this."
He flashed his dimpled smile, and the room regained some of it's former optimism as he asked incredulously, "You're volunteering to go to sickbay?"
She shrugged, accepting the new playfulness as her own hopes soared at the notion that she may not have been responsible for her actions. And oh how she wanted it to be true, "You've given me a new theory. Can you blame me for not wanting to test it?"
"Not at all," he assured warmly, as she brushed past him, heading towards the door to her quarters.
Halfway to it, she stopped. A few moments later she turned to him, serious again, "Regardless of what the Doctor finds, Chakotay, I owe you an apology."
He waited patiently as she walked closer towards him and spoke sincerely, "I regret ignoring your advice, and relieving you of command, when I was the one out of line. You were right, and I hope this doesn't make you hesitant to speak up again when you think I'm making a bad decision."
"It won't" he assured her.
And his genuineness reminded her just how resolute he was to protecting her crew. Their crew. Honestly, she couldn't fathom what would have compelled her to forget her principles and her crew's safety other than mind control by an alien force. She briefly pondered asking him to relieve her of command if she ever started acting like that again. But asking for mutiny was surely not a good idea, and as much as she trusted him, he was just as susceptible to alien mind control as she was. It would be better if they both acted as checks and balances to each other. To listen and talk with each other over disagreements, rather than fight for dominance of command.
"Promise me," he interrupted her thoughts, "you'll come back and finish your dinner?"
She grinned and the optimism resumed, "I'll be honest, I had a snack before we had dinner."
"Coffee isn't a snack, Kathryn."
"Maybe not, but I'm trying to watch my figure. What would you think of me if I waltzed onto the bridge one day with fifty extra pounds?"
"Nothing can change how I feel about you."
The unexpected warmth of his reply made a blush creep into her cheeks as she smiled to keep the mood light. But it eventually faltered as she considered the final question nagging in the back of her mind, "And if the Doctor doesn't find anything to support the theory that my mind was being influenced by aliens?"
He put a hand on her shoulder, "Then we'll talk, like we always do."
She glanced at where his hand rested and then placed her own hand on top of his to seal the promise, gazing once more into his eyes. Then she turned and left for sickbay.