Usual Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek Voyager or anything associated with it, Paramount does!

Author's Note: I found these stored away, handwritten in a notebook from when I had just finished re-watching Voyager. They are a few of my favorite scenes from the show between the Captain and members of her crew, written from the character's perspectives. No plagiarism is intended; I just wanted to share my snippets and let you enjoy them if you want to! I'll post whenever I get time to type one up. Thank you, and please review!

A Captain's Heart

Chapter 12: From "Latent Image"

Kathryn

Soft piano music filled her quarters. Kathryn reclined in her armchair, the very image of relaxation, and yet her mind was not focused on her book. It was one of her favorites, La Vita Nuova, a gift from Mark shortly before Voyager's maiden voyage. She sighed lightly. The book hit a little too close to home on the troubles of the day, which still swirled in her head, refusing to be banished.

The door bleeped, startling her out of her thoughts. As she pushed through a light, dreamy haze to focus, she was suddenly aware that exhaustion had finally been causing her to drift asleep. She sighed again, blinking at the door. "Come in," she said softly. Seven strode inside. "Are you having a little trouble regenerating?" she asked, a motherly concern flooding her voice.

"My alcove is functioning properly," Seven answered. "I am having trouble with the nature of individuality."

Kathryn laughed lightly, replying, "There's a time and a place for philosophical discussion. Two in the morning in my quarters isn't one of them." She finally shook off the rest of the tiredness and began to rise from her chair. She added, "But I'll tell you what. Meet me in the mess hall tomorrow…"

Seven interrupted, "Tomorrow will be too late. We'll have already rewritten the Doctor's program by then.

Kathryn held Seven's steady gaze for a moment. So that was what this late visit was about. She dropped her book on the footrest with an audible clap and drew herself up to full height. "And violated his rights as an individual," she assumed. The quiet, familial atmosphere between them dissipated as she felt her command voice return.

"Precisely," Seven agreed.

Seven

"If you've come to act as my conscience, you're a little late," the Captain began, walking toward the replicator. "I considered these issues eighteen months ago, as I did again this morning. I came to the same conclusion."

"Your conclusion is wrong," Seven accused.

Janeway turned to meet her gaze, deep blue eyes intent and troubled. Seven did not blink; she presented a challenge in her steadfastness. She had known that her mentor was still struggling with the decision, else she would not still be awake at this time of night. She was unsure, while Seven was unwaveringly certain. This would be her advantage.

Finally, Janeway blinked and broke eye contact just long enough to nod toward the replicator and order, "Coffee, black." She looked at Seven again, and then took a sip. Her free hand went up in mock frustration, and Seven knew that an analogy was underway. "Lukewarm," the Captain said, beginning to pace a circle around the room and never taking her eyes off Seven. "Now, I've told that replicator a dozen times about the temperature of my coffee. It just doesn't seem to want to listen, almost as if it's got a mind of its own." She stopped at the point where she and Seven were on opposite sides of the circle. "But it doesn't. A replicator operates through a series of electronic pathways that allow it to receive instructions and take appropriate action. And there you go, a cup of coffee. A bowl of soup, a plasma conduit, whatever we tell it to do." She resumed pacing and finished, "As difficult as it is to accept, the Doctor is more like that replicator than he is like us."

Seven felt her metallic eyebrow raise incredulously. "He would disagree," she stated succinctly.

"I'm sure he would," Janeway agreed. "But I can't let that change my decision. I learned that the hard way when his program almost self-destructed. I won't take that risk again."

"The risk isn't yours to take!" Seven insisted.

Janeway came to stand directly in front of her. "If one of my crew chose to put a phaser to his head, should I let him?" she asked quietly.

Seven acknowledged the question, but she maintained, "It would depend on the situation."

"It always depends on the situation, Seven," the Captain said, shaking her head ever so slightly. She paused, and Seven thought she caught a softening in the light reflected in her Captain's eyes. Perhaps it was a trace of acquiescence on Janeway's part that she had been wrong, that she was still debating within herself, and that she was asking for a way out. As soon as it lingered, though, it was replaced by solid steel again. Janeway had held to her decision. "But we can debate philosophy another time," the Captain said, looking away and setting down her coffee mug.

Kathryn

She felt Seven's gaze follow her movements. Her protégé said, "When you separated me from the Collective, I was an unknown risk to your crew. Yet you kept me on board; you allowed me to evolve into an individual."

"You're a human being," Kathryn said gently. "He's a hologram."

"And you allowed that hologram to evolve as well," Seven countered, "to exceed his original programming. And yet, now, you choose to abandon him." Seven's voice, manner, and expressions were fierce. Kathryn was reminded of another young woman who had fought for the Doctor's rights as an individual, debating the nature of individuality with her. But she would not be swayed.

"Objection noted. Goodnight," she replied firmly. She turned away, but out of the corner of her eye, she watched Seven look toward the replicator again in quiet contemplation.

"It is unsettling," Seven remarked. Her soft voice made Kathryn spin back towards her. "You say that I am a human being, and yet I am also Borg, a part of me not unlike your replicator." At this, Seven's sky-blue eyes locked onto Kathryn's dark ones. She added, "not unlike the Doctor. Will you one day choose to abandon me as well? I have always looked to you as my example, my guide to humanity. Perhaps I've been mistaken. Goodnight."

With that, Seven was gone.

Kathryn stood breathless in her empty quarters, the impact of her protégé's words echoing in the oppressive silence. Seven had such a strength in her vulnerable honesty and piercing inquisitiveness. Her exploration of humanity constantly challenged Kathryn to question her own motives, desires, and actions. Now, though, her question and statement simply felt like a punch to Kathryn's gut. They were a sword straight through her heart. And suddenly, for the first time that day, Kathryn saw clearly what the right thing to do was.