"What do you regret the most of your time in the Delta Quadrant?" the counselor asked Kathryn Janeway.
Kathryn was stunned by the question. It wasn't a question she had expected. When Rear Admiral Jenna Markson had contacted her to let her know that she had been appointed her counselor for the mandatory counseling sessions, Kathryn had thought that it would be a simple pro forma session to make sure that the grueling debriefing sessions had not unhinged her. She assumed that Chakotay was also having a counseling session.
"Excuse me?" Kathryn asked. The deadly calm in her voice was a clear indicator to anyone who knew her that she was very annoyed, bordering on angry.
"It's a simple question, Kathryn," Jenna stated calmly. She had expected her patient to become angry, so this was a good thing. "What do you regret the most about the last seven years on Voyager?"
Kathryn knew the answer to that without even a seconds hesitation, but she could not say it. To say it would mean that she was admitting that she had been wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. Her inner control was in tatters after the long debriefings, and now she was being asked a question that would reveal what in her mind was her greatest failure. She had to get away from here and regroup. It was her only option if she didn't want to be reduced to a mind numbing wreck. She stood up instantly.
"I'm sorry, I have to leave," she said curtly. "I'll contact you when I can reschedule."
Jenna watched as Janeway left the room. Fled was more like it. She'd been expecting that reaction. Jenna had been intrigued with Janeway from the moment that the log entries and reports had began to come into Starfleet regularly. As a result, she had also accessed the personal logs of Janeway to see if she could gain some insight into this very talented and determined woman. It hadn't taken long to see that if they returned, then this intrepid Captain would have some serious problems to contend with. Jenna was especially talented at zeroing in on the specific issues that were at the forefront of problems like this. Now she had to convince Janeway that all was not as bad as she felt it was. Jenna stood up and walked over to her desk. She commed Admiral Hayes.
"I'm placing a medical hold on Janeway until further notice," she told the senior Admiral. "Under no circumstances is she to be offered a promotion, or be asked to return to duty until I clear her."
"The President won't be happy about that," Hayes said finally. He hoped that an appeal like that would change Markson's mind.
"Too bad," Jenna said bluntly. "There are more important things than good press coverage, and the mental well being of an officer like Janeway damn sure qualifies on that score. My order stands, Hayes, and I can guarantee you that the Head of Starfleet Medical will back me up on this one. Markson out." Jenna angrily cut off the transmission and then sent a quick run down to her close friend Beverly Crusher, the temporary Head of Starfleet Medical.
One week later Kathryn Janeway was sitting against her thinking tree in Indiana. She had come to her Mother's home right after that abortive counseling session and had stayed here with Gretchen ever since, shunning all contact with media and Starfleet. She had even shut out her Mother and younger sister, for the most part. Instead of trying to forge ahead now that she was home, her mind was locked onto that question that the counselor had asked her.
She had made a number of mistakes out there in the Delta Quadrant, and she knew it. The debriefings had identified them, and she had accepted responsibility for them. The staggering number of reprimands in her record as a result of the debriefings, both minor and serious, was proof of her acceptance. Those were professional, though. She would eventually digest the implications of them and learn from them, but she did not feel that she could actually regret them, outside of her behavior during the Equinox incident. She did know that if she had it to do over again, professionally, she would not make many of the decisions she had made that led to the reprimands, but hindsight was 20/20 as they say.
The professional side of the equation, though, was not where her largest regret lay. It was the personal. It also had a name: Chakotay.
For seven years she had been blessed to have probably the kindest, gentlest, and most thoughtful man she had ever know by her side. On top of all that he was brave and loyal, which provided her with the perfect First Officer for the journey that they endured. Two years into the journey they had been forced to spend several months together alone on an uninhabited planet. During that time he had spun a legend for her that told her he was in love with her. Instead of admitting her feelings for him, she had hesitated. Her hesitation had been too long, though, and before she could admit anything to him, Voyager had returned for them. She had told him, quite arrogantly now that she thought about it, that she could not have a relationship with him because of protocol.
That one sided decision began five years of tension, anguish, frustration, and heart ache. At the time she told herself that she was only doing what was expected of her. Now she could look back on it and see that she had been nothing but a coward. She had hurt him so much with each rejection and lecture on protocol. She was deeply ashamed of how she had treated him. Markson's question had brought all of those miserable feelings and emotions to a boil all at once and she had not known how to even handle them, let alone speak of them.
In her mind's eye, she saw the look of utter despair that Chakotay had when she told him on New Earth that the most they could have on Voyager was friendship. At the time, she had ignored it and convinced herself that because he didn't argue the point he actually agreed with her views on protocol. She knew now that he hadn't agreed at all, but had kept silent because he felt it was her decision to make. Not as a Captain, but as a person who deserved respect as all persons do. Her insides clenched when she considered the incredible level of respect and control he gave her with his personal happiness.
From then on it went downhill in most respects. Almost anytime he would show appreciation of her as a woman, or even as a friend, she had a tendency to remind him of protocol and proper boundaries. There had been rare exceptions, such as when she invited him on that moonlit sail on Lake George that she had created on the holodeck. It had been her own way of showing him that she genuinely cared for him much more than she believed she should, without actually saying the words and crossing her personal boundaries. The various dinners they had in her, or on rare occasions his, quarters, were also a way of letting him know, however subtly. She knew now that they hadn't been enough.
She was fully aware of his occasional shore leaves to find some female companionship for a night or two on alien worlds. It hurt each time knowing he was finding in some woman what she so wanted to give him, but she had pushed him to that. She had no one to blame but herself. Kathryn hadn't indulged on shore leaves, but in the first couple of years in the Delta Quadrant, she had programmed a few holographic lovers for her own entertainment. After New Earth she had not used any of them, relying instead on her few 'toys' and her hands for sexual release. Her time with Michael Sullivan had been an aberration, but she had felt so alone by that point, and she and Chakotay had not been getting along for some time by then. That had been her last holographic lover, and her last physical lover during the time on Voyager. She still felt guilty as hell about her time with the hologram from Fair Haven, especially when she realized that the changes she made to his programming made him similar in all the important respects to Chakotay. Jaffen had been from an asexual species, so he didn't count in her opinion, and she had been brainwashed, so that was also a factor in her self-evaluation.
Now all she was left, when it came to Chakotay, was a deep seated regret that was painful in it's impact on her psyche. She was well aware that his relationship with Seven had ended almost immediately upon Voyager's emergence from the transwarp aperture, but she was too deeply ashamed to approach him and speak to him about the possibility of starting over.
For the past week she had been thinking of nothing but all of this, and it was becoming quite circular now. Instead of making things a bit clearer for her, it was making her fall further into a depression that was almost, but not quite, as abysmal as when she was in the void.
"I thought I would find you here," Chakotay's strong, yet calm, voice boomed out from beside her.
Kathryn was jerked back to the present and her head shot around and up facing him. He was a shadow, silhouetted by the sun, but she knew it was him by his voice and the wondrous outline his form made. "Chakotay!" she gasped in shock.
Chakotay knelt down and sat beside her, his back against the tree also. She was close enough that her left arm was against his right. He didn't say anything, though, instead waiting for her to make the first move.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded. She mentally cringed at the tone, but she was too shocked to say it any other way.
"I waited a week for you to come and see me, so I finally decided to find you," he said simply.
"And if I didn't want to be found?" she asked, though in a more friendly tone of voice.
"So you decided to hide, huh?" he asked.
Kathryn wanted to scream. He wasn't pulling any punches, that was for sure. "And what if I did?" she demanded belligerently. "Is there some fucking regulation out there that says I can't be alone?"
His suspicions were confirmed with that last statement. He'd been pretty sure that she was not happy with what had been made very clear to her by the review board, and he was also aware of what the counselor had asked her, since the Head of Starfleet Medical had ordered her counselor to tell him of the abortive session. She was angry, but not at anyone other than herself. It was the Void all over again, but this time she was hiding out at her Mother's home.
"No," he said quietly. He was not about to let her mood anger him. He had never agreed with her stance on protocol in the Delta Quadrant, but it was her decision to make, not his. He would never have belittled her by trying to tell he thought she had been wrong unless she already believed that herself.
"All I ever wanted to do was get our whole crew home," she whispered. She could feel the shimmer of tears forming in her eyes, but tried to fight them off.
"You got us home, Kathryn," he told her.
"No I didn't," she shook her head. "I didn't bring Kathryn home. I don't even know if she exists anymore."
"She does, and she did make it home," Chakotay told her. He was still not looking at her since he felt that this needed to be said as simply as possible. Taking into account her expressions and the clear anguish on her face would make the conversation that much more difficult. Instead, he started to do the talking. He let her know what he considered to be Kathryn, and what he saw of her in the last seven years. The kind person who always had words of encouragement beyond what was necessary of a commanding officer. The woman who formed a connection with people by a simple laying of her hand on a shoulder, or in his case his chest. The look in her eyes as they would share dinner in either of their quarters. The woman he heard sobbing at night on the other side of the wall that their quarters bedrooms had shared. "None of that was the Captain, Kathryn. That was you. Nothing will ever convince me otherwise."
Kathryn now had tears trailing down her cheeks as he told her all this. She was still looking out across the field, but she could see him in her minds eye. "But I was so horrible to you," she managed to choke out. She simply couldn't understand how he could even want to be near her after how she had hurt him all those years. She felt his arm go across her shoulder and gather her in closely. Almost instinctively she leaned her head to the side against him, breathing in his scent. Any anger she had felt earlier when he first got there was long gone now, replaced by confusion.
"You forget that I let you," he reminded her. He could tell she was not willing to concede that idea. "Do you really think you could have argued your position on protocol with a straight face with me and won the argument given Voyager's circumstances?" he asked.
"No," she admitted grudgingly. She kept her voice muffled, but she knew that he had heard her clearly.
"I never agreed with your views on that, but they were yours to have as a human being," he told her. "I would have been showing the worst kind of disrespect towards you if I had tried to convince you that your personal views were somehow wrong. If I had done that, I would have essentially been saying that none of your views as a person were valid, only those as a Captain. I would have lost Kathryn for sure."
"But she lost you," Kathryn expressed her greatest pain.
"No she didn't," he told her. "I wouldn't be here if she had."
"I need help," she admitted finally. She had spent so long avoiding that idea, and rushed away from Markson, but now she knew she needed the help that was being offered. Her mind was spinning from all of this, and now he was seemingly saying that he was still hers if she would accept him.
"Then it's a good thing I have plenty of time on my hands," he told her with a smile.
She looked up at him for the first time since he sat down next to her and saw him smiling. "You've got to have plenty to do now that you're reinstated," she said with a shake of her head.
"I resigned my commission today," he told her. "I'll be teaching history and anthropology at the Academy and some outreach courses at Berkley."
"But you deserve your commission," she protested.
"It doesn't mean anything to me, though, Kathryn," he explained. "I won't be in the service of an organization that allowed my people, and my family, to be slaughtered simply because they didn't have the integrity to enforce a treaty that they found inconvenient. I will, though, teach a new generation of officers so that one day the people running Starfleet will be the kind of people I can respect."
Kathryn couldn't argue about that. She knew that Starfleet and the Federation had been terribly wrong in how they let the colony worlds be destroyed by the Cardassians, and the fact that Chakotay had lost his entire family made it even worse for him. At least he was willing to put enough of the past behind him to teach at the Academy. He was a superb historian and anthropologist.
"The real question is what are you going to do?" he asked. "Markson won't clear you for anything, including promotion, until you complete your counseling."
Kathryn understood by that to mean that he had spoken to Markson and knew what had happened. That didn't surprise her considering that Starfleet had officially labeled him Voyager's counselor of record, in addition to his position as First Officer, once his files had been reviewed. Markson would definitely have spoken to him after her disastrous first meeting.
"I don't know," she admitted almost reluctantly. Her whole life had been Starfleet, and now she was not really too keen on remaining in the service. "Would you mind too much if I retired and worked more on being Kathryn?" she asked. It felt odd asking him about what she should do in terms of her personal life, but if she read him right, then he was hoping that they could maybe have a life together. She was more than willing to try now that she knew that he was willing to put the past behind them.
"If that's what you really want," he said as he chuckled.
Kathryn smiled. It seemed amazing that in the short time he had been here she had gone from being completely miserable and angry to happy and smiling. There was still some confusion, but it would take time and effort to get beyond that.
"I think I need some time way from Starfleet before I can really decide," she replied.
"Are you going to go back and see Markson?" he asked.
"Eventually," she answered. "Not yet, though. If I answer her question and she clears me, then I know Starfleet will try and pressure me to take a promotion and return to duty. I realize now that that's not what I need. For the time being, I want to find out just who I want to be." She paused for a moment. "Are you willing to stay with me and help me with that?"
"I'm not going anywhere," he told her.
"And if I want to see if there's something left between us for a relationship?" she pressed.
He hugged her in closer. "You'll get absolutely no argument from me," he assured her.
"Then how about we get up from here and go to the real Lake George," she said as she stood up and offered her hand. "I seem to remember promising you a visit to the real one some time ago."
"I'd like that a lot," he told her as he took her hand and stood up. He smiled as she kept hold of his hand and started walking back to the house.
Two Years Later, Starfleet Medical, Rear Admiral Jenna Markson's Office
The Kathryn Janeway who now sat in the chair opposite Jenna Markson was a very different person than the woman who had been there two years before. This Kathryn Janeway was in civilian clothing and her hair had grown out several inches. She had gained a few flattering pounds and looked healthy. The color had returned to her complexion and there was a smile on her face. Jenna noticed a wedding ring on her left hand.
Starfleet had not been pleased when Janeway had told Markson that she would not be in to answer the question until she felt like she was truly home. That had been two years ago and she was now here. Markson had been surprised when Janeway had contacted her the week before to make an appointment.
"Can you answer the question now?" Markson asked.
Kathryn smiled. "Yes, I can," she replied confidently. "My biggest regret from my time in the Delta Quadrant is that I allowed a narrow, and thoroughly ridiculous, view of protocol keep me from a relationship with Chakotay."
"And why do you regret it? Many commanding officers hold the same views," Markson asked.
"Because it caused me to stop viewing my crew as human beings while at the same time it gave me too much power to make reckless and dangerous decisions," Kathryn told her. "We were on the other side of the galaxy and our primary focus should have been getting home and making lives for ourselves while we were out there. I strayed from that a number of times and placed my crew in danger needlessly. If I had been in a serious personal relationship with Chakotay, the lives and quality of life of my crew would have had a more prominent place in my thinking. I also would have been able to avoid serious episodes of depression and anger that endangered my crew since I would have had someone to talk to openly and honestly."
"Would you make those mistakes again?" Markson asked her final question.
"No," Kathryn said without a hint of hesitation. "First, I have a husband now who wouldn't let me, and second, I am resigning formally from Starfleet after this meeting and taking on the new role of Professor of Theoretical Sciences at the Academy."
That didn't surprise Markson. After two years of avoiding Starfleet, she had not expected Janeway to return to active duty. She had heard of the marriage of Janeway and Chakotay and had surmised that a lot of what had been dragging her down after Voyager's return had been dealt with.
"Then I hope you are happy with your new career," Jenna said as she stood. "Regardless, I'm removing the hold on your personnel file. I can see that you've put to rest much of what had been troubling you."
Kathryn stood. "A lot of it, yes," she conceded. "But I still am working on it. Seven years of constantly adding to my regret and mistakes is not easy to move beyond. I wanted to see you, though, and give you an answer to your question. I wasn't ready, or able, to do so two years ago."
"How are you working through your issues, if I may ask," Markson asked one final question.
Kathryn smiled. "I'm writing a book," she told the older woman. "I'm writing about the journey we had in the Delta Quadrant, and it's focus is on what we missed by way of omission or mistake. I want people to know that despite all the accomplishments that have been played up by the Starfleet PR section, there are a number of things that we didn't do that we should have, both personal and professional. I call it..." she paused for a moment. "'I Regret...'"
When Kathryn left the office, Jenna sat back and thought about the change in the younger woman. She was pleased that she hadn't fallen through the cracks. Jenna decided that if that book was as successful as she imagined it would be, then she would be having some serious discussions with the various counseling boards and work on making some serious changes in the mentality of Command about protocol and the distance from the crew that Captain's were supposed to maintain. It was time for the Brass to face some reality, and Jenna was sure that even though she was not writing the book for that reason, Kathryn Janeway would be influencing Starfleet for many years to come.