Chapter 1 – Condemnation
The bridge is awash with the blood of her crew and the Captain sits there doing nothing. I've dragged the names of the dead out of her memory, made her recall their screams when the Kazon pulverised their bodies. Not that I care that greatly for her precious crew contingent, half of whom I've never talked to, but she does. I've pummelled her mind so much already that she should have fired again by now.
All I sense from her is guilt. She's got enough to fill up two cargo bays and still finds room for more. I don't get it. Guilt is pretty well useless here. It only destroys you from the inside, one death at a time.
It is not what she needs. I want to get at her, to tune her mind to mine but with the injuries she's sustained in the attack, she's only minutes away from dropping her phaser.
Chakotay covers the Kazon prisoners and checks on me. A nasty shoulder wound seeps on his uniform. He asks how I am going when he sees my legs. I tell him I'm all right, that I can wait. He squeezes my arm, turns away.
From my days on the Val Jean, I remember a restless man, angry and vengeful. He'll be easier to turn than Janeway. He won't disappoint me.
I've got all I require in front of me: the command team, a handful of disarmed Kazon left behind after another failed attempt to seize the ship, and help is at least ten minutes away, with the bridge on lockdown. I don't need that long.
I feel Chakotay's fingers on his phaser while he takes in the dead and injured. He squats near Janeway and talks to her, keeps her awake. She whispers something to him but I can't catch the words. Pain, anger and frustration are flooding his mind, making it easier for me to get into his thoughts.
Anger is an ineffective emotion, as Tuvok would say, but it's easy to push into hate, and from hate should come Chakotay's conversion. I'll guide him down that path, and if I can get to him, he'll bring Janeway with him. Then the whole crew will have a better chance to survive.
I just want to do something for this ship. It is such a tiny speck among so many vicious races who have never heard of Starfleet principles. I can show those two what they need to do, who they need to be to keep their crew alive.
How will they endure over the next 75,000 light-years, these two pathetic COs and their crew? They've just killed in the heat of the battle. They glimpsed the possibilities open to them and then stopped once the situation was safe and under control. They think violence should be tamed, constrained by rules and protocols. Guilt and anger won't help them last the distance. We'll never make it if we don't adapt to the savagery of this quadrant. We can't afford compassion, rules of combat, principles.
They are so wrong, those two. Violence is the only way that will save them and the ship. They need to embrace it, not quell it. They need to thrust a soul into death, to savour its self-aware fear of the void that awaits, to rejoice when our enemies are no more.
Violence is justified here. Against all who attack us. At all times.
Hear me. Listen to my words.
Forget your principles. They slow you down, make you weak. You'll never survive the journey home.
Welcome your rage and thoughts of revenge, Chakotay. Kill and enjoy it.
Captain, watch and learn. We will do this again.
The price of killing will be your freedom.
There will be no more guilt.
Destroy the Kazon, Chakotay.
Slaughter them all.
Kill them.
Kill.
###
Suder felt two icy blue eyes boring into his skull. "Go to hell," they said.
Come with me, then, he smiled. He pushed Chakotay's raging mind away and latched on to the Captain's.
The sharp weapon fire resonated across the bridge, and Suder thought no more.
Tuvok entered the packed cargo bay and the room became eerily silent. Kathryn's hands tightened around the rail in front of her.
"All rise."
Mutters rose from among the crowd as Tuvok walked to the elevated desk. The service medals displayed on his impeccable uniform and the sash of a Starfleet judge across his chest were reviving memories of previous Starfleet court rooms and trials. The judges and the accused might have changed, but the verdict against the Maquis for daring to defend their own people against the Cardassian had always been the same: life imprisonment in a penal colony, never to see friends and family again. Thousands of light years away, their lives plucked from a war they did not yet know they would never win, the Maquis on Voyager had not forgotten, nor forgiven.
At the back of the room, somebody stomped his foot against the hard floor. Kathryn's hair stood up at the back of her neck as other crew members picked up the harsh rhythm, a gesture born of despair and defiance during those same trials.
But this time, the accused was not a Maquis, and the pounding tremors run through the cargo bay, in clear condemnation of what she had done.
Tuvok waited patiently for the noise to abate. Although immune to intimidation, he was not insensitive to the emotions sweeping through the room. This unprecedented trial was capping weeks of unrest among the crew, exacerbated by incessant Kazon attacks, each more brazen than the last. He had kept his concerns to himself, tactically constrained by the reality of working with a crew of mixed allegiance. Now, he faced the one person he had pledged his unconditional support to, and there was nothing he could do to help.
He sat down, letting the wave of sound run its course. One by one, the crewmembers settled in their chairs. The trial started.
During the next half an hour, Tuvok set up the jury and explained the court martial process to the five jurors — three Starfleet and two former Maquis — picked at random from the crew, bar the two civilians on board and the security team. Ayala was to be the prosecuting officer.
Unwilling to appear anything else than calm and focused, Kathryn kept her chin high and let her gaze wander over the crowd. Tom and Harry were in deep conversation in the front row. The young Ensign glanced at her and smiled bravely when he caught her eyes.
She was glad he was safe and sound. Her heart had stopped when he had collapsed on the bridge floor, shot by the Kazon attackers. All Starfleet ships needed a wide-eyed, keen Ensign among their midst. She smiled back at him.
Soon enough, Tuvok ended his instructions. The mood in the room shifted once again, all eyes fixed on Janeway. Even the security officers stationed at the doors of the cargo bay that had hastily been converted to host the trial let their attention stray away from the restless spectators.
"Captain Janeway, you are accused of first degree murder committed on the person of Crewman Lon Suder. How do you plead?" Tuvok said.
"Guilty, Your Honour," she answered in a firm voice. A wave of relief passed through her. She had made the right decision not to fight the charges.
The room erupted.
A dozen men and women, with all the swagger that marked them as former Maquis, jumped to their feet at the back of the room. Angry words were thrown across the packed room, reminding all in attendance of the captain's broken promise of making no difference between Maquis and Starfleet. A motley and no less noisy group sprung from their chairs and protested, haranguing those at the back. Suddenly reminded of their duties, the guards stiffened their grips on the weapons they carried.
Janeway watched the mayhem in dismay. Over the past year, she had talked to each and every one of those assembled here, laughed with them, mourned their losses, listened to their hopes and fears, mentored and moulded them into one crew with no parallel this side of the galactic core. It was the only way they would make it home.
Instead, the ship was ripping apart faster than a warp core meltdown, and there was nothing she could do. Because she was guilty. She could still feel the phaser hot and heavy in her hand. She had killed Suder.
She searched the crowd for a face she had not seen since leaving sickbay for the brig. Chakotay was not there. His absence could mean so many things, but she had no way to know. Her only duty now was to protect him and the crew from what she had done.
Tuvok picked up his gavel, cutting through the cries and screams sweeping through the room. "I understand you have waived counsel," he said to Janeway, after the audience, still unsettled and angry, had returned to their seats.
"Yes, I have."
"It is your right to refuse counsel, but may I ask why?"
He saw her glance at him, but he could betray nothing of his unease. Suder's death was puzzling in the extreme, and yet, the facts aligned with the captain's version of events, frustrating his judgement. Something had occurred that afternoon, something the Captain was keeping from him, despite repeated questioning earlier in the day. She had not denied the evidence and had simply refused to provide any reason for her actions. It was not like her to abandon the fight, but the whole Suder affair was irrational.
"Captain?" Tuvok prompted.
His own course of action was set in stone, the rigorous Starfleet protocols clear cut. With the captain in the accused box, and Voyager's First Officer still in sickbay and a potential witness, it had fallen to him to preside over the trial. He owed it to the Captain to follow Starfleet protocols to the letter. She would not wish for, nor expect anything less from him, as she had told him after the Sikaris debacle, not so long ago. It was unfortunate that he had so little scope to assist her and still follow procedures.
"I cannot force a member of my crew to defend the indefensible," Janeway finally said.
Loud heckles from the back of the room supported what she could feel in her gut. The crew was splitting along the old battle lines of Maquis and Starfleet. Months of Kazon attacks had begun to eat at those who had always wondered if following Starfleet principles was not a price too high to pay. For those crew members the Federation had betrayed before, it was such a small step: why not share their technology and forget about the consequences? Voyager would soon leave this area of space anyway, heading home.
The rumours had ebbed and flowed, the tide swelling over the past few weeks. Tuvok, Chakotay and Neelix had discreetly investigated. They had found nothing tangible, just chatter among the crew, innuendos of better treatment of the Starfleet contingent, small groups of former Maquis going silent when approached. Pressure from the Kazon had intensified, and the focus of the senior officers had switched to the more pressing threat of alien attacks.
Then she had killed Suder, and Voyager's crew was suddenly finding themselves fighting on two fronts.
Tuvok had been right to opt for a trial by jury. The Maquis followers would have considered a judge-only court martial a cover up, and if he had found her not guilty, that decision could have been the trigger for a Maquis mutiny. Voyager's Chief of Security had made the right call, the logical one. But let the trial linger, and even a public and open conviction might not quash the insurrection she could see rising in front of her. Surely, Tuvok could see that.
Maybe she had to make it clearer.
"I do not want any member of my crew to have to bear the consequences of the verdict. The crew is divided, old wounds have opened up – "
A brief cry shot from across the room. "You killed one of us, Captain. You started it." Seska's voice dripped with contempt, her supporters jeering.
"Silence." Tuvok made himself heard without raising his voice, and the room quietened again. "The charges against the defendant are serious, and even though the accused has pleaded guilty, this court cannot accept such a plea without examining all the facts. The proper verdict will only be upheld if the process strictly abides to Starfleet protocols."
A few mumbled remarks told him what many thought of those protocols, but he ignored them. He lowered his eyes to the jury. "Because of the extraordinary circumstances in which Voyager has been placed, with none of the support this court would normally expect, I overrule the defendant's right. I assign Kes of the Ocampa to be the accused's counsel."
Kathryn was ready to interject. The most important thing was for the trial to conclude as quickly as possible and Chakotay to become the captain. The crew needed to remain united under a strong leader if they had any chance of making it back to the Alpha quadrant. Yet, arguing about a counsel now would just delay the inevitable verdict. She let herself relax, hoping to convince the sensitive Ocampa she did not need her help.
Tuvok stood up. "This session is adjourned until tomorrow morning. All rise." He left the bench while the crowd jostled to the exits, keen to let their friends on duty know of the first day of their Captain's trial.
Resigned to her fate, Kathryn waited for the guards to walk her back to the brig.
Four steps, a quarter turn, five steps across, turn, four steps...
Kathryn slowly paced the width and breadth of the cell. The exercise helped dull the deep ache that pervaded her body. The EMH had been swept off his holographic feet after the most recent Kazon attack, with dozens of injured crew members flooding sickbay. He had attended to the injuries she had suffered on the bridge, no doubt intending to finish the treatment later on. Instead, soon after waking up from surgery, she had asked to go to the brig to free up a much needed biobed. Nobody had checked on her condition since. She had not asked. It was not important.
Laughs and jeers from the Kazon prisoners shattered the silence.
"Captain?" a soft voice asked.
Janeway approached the force field. "Kes. You did not need to come. Tuvok should never have called on you. This is not your place."
The young woman smiled, ignoring the racket behind her. "You are my friend, Captain. I am happy to be of help."
The sight of a friendly face was fast eroding Kathryn's resolve, but she persisted. "I don't need a counsel. I did plead guilty."
"Then tell me your version of the events," Kes said in a matter of fact tone, settling down on the chair the day guard had brought for her.
The Ocampa's natural curiosity and intelligence that made her such a valued member of the crew were not going to be satisfied by evasion, so Kathryn gave Kes the same answers she had given Tuvok and Ayala when they had interrogated her in the early hours of the morning.
The Kazon raid taking them by surprise, so brazen and swift in its execution they seemed a different enemy from their early encounters. Shrewd, calculating, getting so close this time to overcoming the obstacles that had denied them the ship they wanted.
The bridge isolated, Paris and Tuvok stuck on lower decks. Chakotay taking the helm, while she had moved to the tactical console.
Armed Kazon rushing the bridge, the small repair team caught in the middle of a phaser fight, Harry and two other crew members shot in the first few seconds.
The intruders finally subdued, the enemy ship retreating, a semblance of calm returning —
"— and then, I shot Suder."
Kes waited for Janeway to elaborate, watching her attentively. Getting no response, she probed her with the same questions Tuvok had asked. "Why did you shoot him, Captain? Was he threatening you?"
"He had come up to repair a console when the attack started. He was unarmed."
Kes lowered her gaze, clearly gathering her thoughts, but said nothing.
"What is it, Kes?" Kathryn said, worried by the young woman's reticence.
Uncertainty showing in her eyes, Kes looked back at her. "During the attack, I was helping the Doctor treat the injured crew members who were starting to trickle in. Before the red alert was lifted, I sensed something."
She hesitated, a frown on her face. "I saw a door open into a hostile and malevolent space, felt thoughts welcoming the darkness, revering it, bringing it into this world. Then, the door shut tight. The dark thoughts cut off abruptly, and I was back in sickbay. What do you think it was all about, Captain?"
For a heartbeat, Kathryn felt her hope soar. If Kes had sensed the sinister thoughts of the man, maybe she could be brought as a witness.
She breathed out slowly. It was not enough. The fact that Suder had almost managed to impose his will on the minds of the command team was inexplicable and unprovable. For all of Kes' willingness to help, the fledging empathic gifts of an Ocampa would not hold much sway in a Starfleet courtroom. Even Vulcan mind melds were not acceptable in court unless their findings could be independently verified. There was no way out but to plead guilty. The crew needed to follow a leader they could trust, instead of wondering who else she might shoot the next time somebody overran the bridge.
"I don't know, Kes. I really don't know." Kathryn said. "How is Chakotay?" she added, hoping to distract the sensitive woman from the unsettling images she had felt.
Kes shuddered, as if to shake off the weight of that moment which was quickly fading away. "Commander Chakotay is still in sickbay. The Doctor had to sedate him when he first woke up. His brain patterns were fluctuating widely and he was disorientated. He does not remember the events leading to Suder's death. Whatever you can tell us would help his recovery," she said with an eager tone. She knew of the strong bond between the Captain and her First Officer and hoped his plight might make Janeway reveal what had happened.
Kathryn shook her head. "I killed Suder. Chakotay had nothing to do with it."
"Captain, if you don't tell me, Tuvok will have no choice than to accept your guilty plea. He explained to me that Starfleet protocols are very strict. You will lose everything. Your rank, your freedom. I will lose my friend. Is that what you really want?"
Janeway was torn apart by Kes' anguish, but her need to protect Chakotay was more important. "How is the crew going?" she asked instead, keen to deflect the young woman's attention away.
"All the other injured crew members have been discharged. Neelix is providing food and companionship to anybody in search of solace."
"And what about you? How are you holding up?" Kathryn asked gently. A small sad smile was her answer, reinforcing her determination not to draw anybody further into the mess that was now her fate.
Then Kes was gone, once again raising a few chosen words from the Kazon prisoners as she walked past their cells.
Left alone, Janeway thanked her good fortune that Chakotay did not remember anything. She had been right to let nobody learn of the sickening ideas Suder had forced into the Commander when their minds had been linked together. Even though she had not borne the full brunt of Suder's attack, she had tasted the temptation to escape from the guilt and hurt that had plagued her since blowing up the Caretaker array, and to attack and conquer all who opposed their journey to get back home, if only she surrendered to sickening thoughts of retaliation and revenge.
And while Chakotay had fought his rising rage against the cowering prisoners, she knew that sooner or later Suder would have succeeded in pushing the former Maquis leader over the edge and that she would have been next. Nobody on the ship had Suder's mental abilities. He would have been unstoppable, she was sure of it. So instead she had shot him, his fateful words still resonating in her memory: 'We will do this again'.
Damn if she'd done nothing and let them lose their souls to this monster.
The brig door opened and closed as the gamma shift started. Across the corridor, the Kazon prisoners were talking among themselves in low voices. A guard brought her a food tray which Kathryn left untouched on the cell floor.
The light dimmed to the artificial night setting. She settled on the bunk, nestling against the wall. The hum of the warp core engines was comforting. A brief variance in illumination told her the shields were finally up and running. The ship was once again secure against further attacks.
The crew, the new captain, they could run their own lives and get back to Earth without her. It was time to let go, even if two years at the helm was hardly a record to be proud of. All she could do was to prepare for the inescapable sentence.
Tuvok wouldn't keep her in the brig forever. He would drop her on an uninhabited planet, or put her in stasis for the next 70 years until delivering her to a Starfleet prison. She would spend the rest of her life forgotten, the name of Janeway erased from people's memories.
But Chakotay would take the reins. That's the only hope she had left of salvaging something out of this horrible mess. He needed to become the captain that all would follow.
She closed her eyes. Soon, all was still and silent.
##
This is a sequel to 'Doing something for the ship' (thanks to The Cheshire Cheese for mentioning a sequel would be good. Really. I want to thank you for making me sweat and work hard for nearly a year. Sigh...). I have re-written that short story to fit the longer narrative, and I have included it as part of the first chapter.
My many thanks to Vanhunks for her comments on a very early version, and to Mia Cooper for pointing out quite a few inconsistencies that I had hoped were so well cloaked as to be undetectable. Her knowledge of canon and gentle prodding made this a much better story.