Title: One Soul

Author: Moribus

Series: VOY

Code: gen

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Yes, I know Paramount owns Star Trek and its characters. I'm jealous, so I'm playing with their old toys. Everything will be back in the sandbox by morning.

Summary: At the end of "Equinox," Kathryn is deeply disturbed. While her senior staff works to handle the aftermath, she struggles to keep herself together.

Archiving: Fanfictiondotnet. Please ask for anywhere else, and if you know of other archives, let me know!

Feedback: Pretty pretty please with a cherry on top? Critical, nitpicky feedback is always adored!

Note: I cannot say thanks enough to my beta, JJ, who singlehandedly taught me the basics of fiction writing.

=/\=

"The last time we welcomed you aboard, you took advantage of our trust. You betrayed this crew. I won't make that mistake again."

Kathryn watched herself say those words, numbly removed from it all.

The five surviving members of the U.S.S. Equinox' crew stood stiffly at attention in the conference room. She slowly strode in front of them as Tuvok and Chakotay looked on.

"Noah Lessing. Marla Gilmore. James Morrow. Brian Sofin. Angelo Tassoni. You're hereby stripped of rank. You'll be expected to serve as crewmen on this vessel. Your privileges will be limited. And you'll serve under close supervision for as long as I deem fit."

The tone of her own voice chilled her. She longed to offer a bit of comfort as they mourned the loss of their ship, their captain, and the rest of their crew. She wanted to assure them that hard work and loyalty would be rewarded.

But she couldn't. She could only watch.

"This time, you'll have to earn our trust. Dismissed."

The crewmen filed out of the room, escorted by Tuvok.

Alone with Chakotay, Kathryn's mind switched out of autopilot. She kept her back to him, not allowing him to watch the shift in her demeanor. Helplessness, grief, and despair showed for the slightest of moments before she pulled her composure around herself.

"Repairs?" she asked, turning an ear to him.

"Coming along," he answered neutrally.

She nodded and headed for the bridge.

Stepping through the doorway, Kathryn barely glanced at the tangles of fried conduits that hung from the ceiling.

It all seemed surreal. The lights too bright. The crew too quiet. The viewscreen too empty.

Well, battles usually end abruptly. That wasn't the problem.

Chakotay had followed her from the briefing room. Only recently released from confinement to quarters, he was waiting... Waiting.

Well, he did deserve an explanation, if not an apology. After all, he had been confined to quarters for doing his job. For challenging his captain when she had endangered a man's life.

He deserved an explanation, if not an apology. But Kathryn could offer neither. She couldn't find the words to describe her regret.

In any case, he was still waiting. Expecting her to make the first gesture, as surely as he always let her have the last word.

"How's the crew?" she asked.

She still wouldn't turn toward him. How terribly weak.

"A lot of frayed nerves," he said. She heard him walk across the upper level of the bridge. He was always respectful of her wishes. And clearly she wished a bit of distance.

"Neelix is organizing a potluck to help boost morale," he offered.

"Will I see you there?" she asked. Inwardly, she winced at the despair she heard in her voice.

"I'm replicating the salad."

Her heart leapt just a little. He intended to put this behind them. And although that was a great relief, she found herself feeling even more guilty. Somehow it felt worse to fail someone who wouldn't hold it against her.

"I'll bring the croutons," she said, trying to match his banter. And failing miserably. She paused, trying to think of something more to say, but all that was left was anguish.

She finally took a good look at him, but there was no point. He still had that neutral manner. Her gaze dropped back down to the deck.

At last, she beckoned, "Chakotay."

They both moved to stand together on the lower level of the bridge. Even as her hair rippled under his breath, tickling the side of her neck, she couldn't meet his eyes.

Why should she feel so ashamed? Certainly, Chakotay had been wronged, but she had faced much worse head-on.

Her shame was not about events and apologies, she realized. It was about her responsibilities as a Starfleet captain.

She had failed. The least she could do was be honest about it.

"You know," she began, pausing to rally her strength, "you may have had good reason to stage a mutiny of your own."

"The thought had occurred to me," he admitted.

Kathryn's breath caught in her throat. Would she step down if he asked her to? A sickening dread gathered in her stomach. She knew that she'd seriously consider it.

A part of her was furious that she could even think that. How could she consider giving up her ship? But that's how she got here in the first place -- she had let that aggressive side control her, with nearly tragic consequences. She was desperate to be sure it couldn't happen again.

He added, "That would have been crossing the line."

She started at that, and her gaze darted up at him.

Loyalty. He granted her reprieve out of loyalty.

It didn't make much sense. Scratch that. It didn't make sense at all. He knew as well as she that any competent captain commanded a certain amount of loyalty. It didn't excuse her from her responsibilities.

But that was a conundrum for a different time. She was too exhausted, too heartsick. Chakotay's 'line' could be pondered after a little sleep and more than a little coffee.

As she glanced away from him, a glint of brass caught her eye. "Will you look at that?" she mused.

The ship's dedication plaque lay among charred bits of bulkhead. Kathryn retrieved it, dusting the surface with her hand.

Not so long ago, she had been on the bridge of the Equinox, watching Captain Ransom take his ship's plaque in hand. A fallen plaque. A matter of course to him. Just as it had been a matter of course to sacrifice his ethics.

"All these years, all these battles," she said. "This thing's never fallen down before."

It was terribly irrational. Illogical, as Tuvok would have it. But she couldn't help but feel that Voyager had laid down her own condemnation.

Kathryn had failed.

Completely oblivious to the significance, Chakotay took the plaque and replied, "Let's put it back up where it belongs."

---

Please feed the author! Critical, nitpicky feedback is always adored! And nice comments are great, too!