The senior staff walked on eggshells around her as soon as she was fit for duty. They all held their breath, fearing that she'd relapse into the depression from Seven's death.

She didn't. She knew, and they knew, that she couldn't indulge in that again. Not here.  Not now.

The faces haunted her. The six crewmen dead that day. She couldn't sleep for more than an hour, even two, without waking up as though someone had slapped her.

Her hands would start trembling. She never knew why they started, or why they'd stop again. The Doctor attributed it to nerves. She stopped thinking about it after a while.

The day after, engineering was cleaned up. The staff had been dramatically reduced, and Janeway transferred crewmen from the sciences to begin half-hearted training in ship repair. Naomi Wildman overnight became an ensign, and served as a filler crewmember for whatever post was necessary at the time. Even little Miral's limited knowledge of basic machinery came into use.

And Janeway ordered the Doctor to leave all bodies, both enemy and friend, on the freezing deck 14.

"Why, may I ask?" The Doctor demanded when she made the order.

"Emergencies, doctor. Emergencies," she replied cryptically. He didn't learn for nearly a month just what she had in mind.

The day came when they were nearly out of food. Fainting spells on duty were commonplace, and many of the crew were having difficulty rising in the morning. Janeway stopped into sickbay to visit the Doctor.

"Doctor... deck 14..."

"The preserved bodies. Yes, what about them?"

"I want you to retrieve the Volkari bodies. Right now."

Warily, the EMH did as she asked, and soon had the Volkari stretched out on the biobeds.

"Captain..?"

Janeway closed her eyes, her pale, sunken cheeks suddenly aflame. "I want you to scan them... See if they're edible."

"Captain..." he murmured in horror.

Janeway opened her eyes, two sharp, blue crystals, burning with a frightening intensity. She stood there, dirty, unruffled, aged ten years in a few months, half doubled over with starvation. She seemed to grow into something powerful, powerful and terrible before his eyes.   "My crew is starving to death."

The Doctor ran the tricorder up and down a Volkari male. His dark eyes flickered back to her. "He's perfectly edible. You could taste him now, if you'd like." He said the words with undue harshness, and then suddenly felt ashamed. She didn't seem to notice.

She reached out a hand to feel the Volkari's rough flesh. He noticed her fingers were trembling violently. "Then this is what we'll have to do."

* * *



Chakotay entered her ready room to find her contemplating a plate before her. His heart jumped in his chest, and he was suddenly urgently aware of his hunger.

It looked like meat of some kind... But at this point, he couldn't care less.

"Kathryn..." His voice was strained.

Janeway looked up at him, the look in her eyes unsettling.

"Where'd you get... food?"

She reached out, pulled a bit off. Her hand was trembling. "I'd been trying to work up the courage to try some."

He gazed at her steadily, and she slowly brought the bit to her mouth. She chewed for a second, seemed to have difficulty swallowing, and then it was done.

"Where..." his voice sounded hollow.

Her eyes swept back up to his, glittering. "They're animals, Chakotay. No, not animals. You saw what they did in engineering. They're beasts."

And he understood her.

"Please tell me you understand."

He approached the desk slowly, and lowered himself into the chair across from her. His own hand shook as he pulled some off for himself.

After he swallowed, holding her eyes the whole time, she knew he understood.

"Can you inform Mr. Chell?" she said quietly.

He nodded grimly. "Anything in particular you want me to tell him?"

"Tell him..." she paused, a strange expression on her face. "Tell him they taste a bit like chicken."

In retrospect, it was the joke that disturbed him the most.


*          *          *


He found her standing alone, gazing out the view port. She looked pale and regal in the dim starlight, and very alone. Her bony arms were folded across her now nearly-flat chest, and only her sharp, blue eyes defied her general air of fragility.

"Here..." Harry said as he approached her, presenting her with an elegant glass filled nearly to the brim with water.

She turned and looked at him questioningly.

"We can at least pretend it's champagne. I'm sure this occasion merits it." At her doubtful look, he reassured her, "My water ration-- not general supply."

She took it then, and silently turned back to gaze out the view port.

"How does it feel, finally seeing armor on the ship?" he asked her.

"I should have finished it sooner."

"But you finished it; that's the important thing."

She didn't reply to this.

"A toast, Captain?" he offered, raising his own glass.

She looked down at the glass in her hand, as though she'd forgotten it was there. "To what?"

"To evening the odds."

Her eyes flickered to his, her expression indefinable. Finally, she raised her glass to meet his. As they clinked, she added, "And to those who aren't here today to see it."

He polished off his glass with a few rapid swigs, forgetting the pretense of champagne. He looked up to see Kathryn frowning into her own glass, her eyes dark and unfathomable. He knew her mind was back at the incident in engineering two months earlier. Since that day, Harry had occasionally noticed her lapse into disquieting silences, her eyes glazed and dull. These silences never lasted more than a few minutes, and were becoming less and less frequent, but they troubled him. He knew exactly what was haunting her in those moments, and it hurt him to think of her pain.

Harry fumbled for words to distract her from her thoughts.

"I have to admit... I'm actually looking forward to engaging the Volkari again. Just wait until they see we have ablative armor of our own."

A bleak, tight-lipped smile appeared on her face.

"It's almost a pity we're out of here in two months," he continued. "We could really raise some hell, give them a taste of their own medicine."

"I don't know," she said ruefully. "I think we already have our own brand of justice."

There was a silence as he comprehended the meaning behind her words.

"Speaking of which," she continued casually, "Have you eaten yet?"

"I was actually saving my ration in case you were hungry."

A genuine smile found its way to her lips. "Well, let's go get something to eat. Mr. Chell should have more than enough food for us today."

* * *



They'd been attacked and boarded just two days earlier, leaving twenty dead Volkari littering the corridors, along with two of Janeway's crew. Despite the pain of losing two more crewmen, Janeway had been somewhat relieved. They'd been running low on food, and she didn't yet want to ask the crew to feed on their own dead. She could vividly recall how many had balked at eating the Volkari. In the end, hunger had been a stronger voice than any order she could possibly give, but some part of her doubted it would be the same case once their own crewmates ended up on the cutting board.

The bodies of Voyager's dead...

Janeway had ordered them left on the frozen Deck 14 along with the Volkari. The crew was fully aware that the bodies were still on ship, but no one dared to mention it out loud. It was an awareness constantly hanging over their minds, a grim possibility for the future. In some part of her mind, Janeway believed that she'd never have the issue presented to her, that they'd have a constant influx of dead Volkari to fuel the mess hall. Janeway knew it could be her Pandora's box, and did her best to keep it at a distance.

So she was surprised when it was the Doctor who first pressed the issue.

* * *



It started when Ken Dalby burst into her ready room, phaser in hand.

Janeway had been immersed in damage reports from the attack three days earlier. The door opened. She looked up sharply at the intrusion, then leaped to her feet when she spotted the phaser and the crazed look on Dalby's face. Training his weapon at her, Dalby circled around the desk in three bounds and slapped her com badge, and incidentally, her chest with undue force.

"You call that bastard, and you tell him to stop!" he rasped, standing so close she could feel his hot breath against her cheek.

Janeway blinked. And blinked again. Maybe she hadn't been sleeping well, or it was the lack of caffeine, because she couldn't seem to understand what he was talking about. She looked blankly at the phaser (set to kill, she noticed), and then back up at his face. "What?"

The anger, the agony of his expression stole her breath away, and he took a menacing step forward while she could only stumble back against her own desk.

"You aren't feeding my wife to that goddamn monster! Call and tell that holographic bastard to put her back!"

Some of her command instincts snapped into place, and she straightened before him, looking as powerful and dangerous as she would before any foe.

Sternly, "Mr. Dalby, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Put down that phaser and explain to me coherently."

Her tone seemed to affect a change in his demeanor, and his rage-fueled confidence faltered. He recoiled a step, and she was alarmed to see bright tears spring to his eyes. The phaser was still pointed at her. "He can't do that to Jenny... It isn't right."

"Who? Who's doing what to Jenny?" Janeway demanded.

"You don't know?" Dalby's voice was almost pitiful now. "He's feeding her to that... that Volkari bastard in sickbay."

Janeway felt her insides suddenly go cold, and her eyes narrowed into slits.

Janeway's voice was deadly.

"What Volkari in sickbay?"

* * *

The door to sickbay slid open, and Janeway walked in, cold blue eyes glittering dangerously. The Doctor could see the phaser in her hand, tucked in a deceptively casual way against her side. He moved quickly to intercept her.

Janeway's face radiated cold fury. She hissed, "Where's the Volkari?"

The Doctor began, "Captain, please let me explain--"

"Oh, I'll deal with you later," she said in a deathly quiet voice. "Now, where--" she tried to step around him, he blocked her path.

"I won't let you kill him."

A bitter smile curled at her lips. "I don't recall you having any say in the matter. He's an enemy, he's onboard my ship, and he's breathing our air--"

"Captain--"

Janeway's voice grew sharper with rage, "--And I'm certainly not letting you keep him here. Now get the hell out of my way!"

He seemed too taken aback by her outburst to move for a moment, and it was all the time she needed to lance around him.

A Volkari lying on his back, propped up by his elbows, had his dark, beady eyes on them throughout the exchange. He now flinched back into the bed, as far as his restraints would allow, as Janeway prowled straight towards him. Her entire body uncoiled as she lifted the phaser --

And she was stopped cold with the hiss of an injection into her neck.

The phaser slipped out of her hand and to the ground. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she sagged helplessly towards the floor. The Doctor caught her just in time, and scooped her up into his arms.

As he hauled her across the room, everything in her longed to struggle, to kick, to rip out of his grasp, but her body didn't respond to her commands. Her mind railed against this turn of events. She could barely breathe-- she was choking on her own fury. She could hear a soft, animalistic growl in her own throat, a sound that in other circumstances would be a loud cry of frustration.

Her body was heavy and limp in his arms as he took her into his office, and then plopped her down firmly in the chair across from his. Her torso slumped, and her head lolled against her shoulder. She still had control of her eyelids, and some power over her speech, and as he circled around to take a seat across from her, she hoped she projected indescribable hatred in her gaze.

I'll delete the bastard... how dare he do this... keeping a Volkari... injecting me, her thoughts seethed.

She tried to tell him so. An unintelligible sound issued from her throat. The Doctor gazed at her with dark, troubled eyes.

"Now, I know how you must be angry with me," he looked at her, then amended, "No, an understatement. You must be furious."

That would still be an understatement you soon-to-be-oblivion, holographic mother-fucker! her mind raged impotently.

"But please, let me explain... I had to give you a muscle relaxant to make you hear me out. You would have simply gone and murdered that man."

Not a man, a beast... a beast, you goddamn, photonic bastard... Janeway's words came out as, "Mmmphm..." Her voice shook. It was practically a growl. It didn't sound like what she'd hoped to say, but she thought the sheer venom of her tone would convey her feelings.

"When the Volkari attacked three days ago," the Doctor went on, heedless of her noises, "One of them found their way into sickbay. I managed to sedate him before he did any damage. The young man you saw out there was the aforementioned Volkari... Torvone."

Friends, are you? Janeway thought with a sneer.

"You have to understand, Captain... He was still alive, and healthy. I couldn't tell you because I knew you'd kill him, and as a Doctor, I can't allow that. I also know the crew's been making use of the Volkari bodies, but because he was still alive, I couldn't allow him to be fed upon. It is one thing to consume the bodies of those killed in the attack. It's another to murder a healthy man for the purpose..."

Janeway fought to speak. All she could force out of her numbed lips was, "...mmmee..." He ignored her efforts.

"As for Jennifer Delaney's body," the Doctor said after a beat, his expression even more troubled. He stopped, seemingly for a breath, before, "You see, Captain, now that Torvone is here... it's my duty as a doctor to keep him alive. He simply has to eat. The only nourishment we have consists of dead bodies. I couldn't feed him another Volkari... if the Voyager crew refrains from outright cannibalism, I can't ask him to consume his own people. You'd been preserving the bodies of our crew on Deck 14, and I figured this was a suitable occasion to make use of that resource."

No right...you had no right... she was inwardly seething, despite some rational part of her mind understanding the merit of his words.

"Jenny Delaney's body is still intact. I haven't touched it yet, so if you truly must return it to Deck 14, you can still do so. But please try to understand, Captain. I cannot break my Hippocratic oath. 'Do no harm.' I can't offer this man up to be murdered, and I can't condemn him to starvation." He passed a beat in silence, simply holding her gaze. "I know that some part of you must understand."

There was a grave silence.

The Doctor finally said, "But I guess in the end, there's nothing I can do to help him; his fate is in your hands. I know that if I attempt to intervene further, you could simply deactivate my program." Then, troubled, "Or you may deactivate it after this, anyway... But I digress. All I can really do is try to show you reason."

He stood up, and walked behind her chair, beyond her sight. She could hear him fiddling with some equipment.

"All I ask, Captain," he continued as he reappeared before her, holding another hypospray, his face still troubled, "Is that you think... think long and hard before you act. Situations like our current predicament can twist people, distort viewpoints. But I like to think there is a certain sense of conduct, call it morality, that will remain no matter how bleak a situation." He bent down and pressed the hypo to her neck, pausing only to meet her eyes one last time.

"I know you, Captain. You're a genuinely good person. You're not a murderer. And if you do what you came to do, I know you'll spend the rest of your life hating yourself for it..."

Hiss.

"It will be a few minutes before this takes full effect," the Doctor continued softly, withdrawing the hypospray. "I'll... I'll be out of sickbay for a while. What happens next is in your hands."

Coward...too afraid to face me... Janeway thought as he turned and walked out of sickbay.

She remained in the chair, limp, helpless, waiting until feeling slowly trickled back into her limbs. She knew where she'd dropped the phaser. She'd go in, she'd take it, and finish what she'd started.

Finish what she'd started... finish him off... damned Volkari son-of-a-bitch...

Her legs slowly twitched to life. Her first attempts to walk proved unsuccessful. Though she had some feeling, her legs wouldn't yet support her weight. After a few tries, though, she got her feet under her.

One step... two steps... She made her way unsteadily across the office, her senses growing sharper, her perception clearing with each movement.

Five steps... six steps... She emerged out into the dim sickbay. The phaser was lying on the floor only a few feet away. She could feel the Volkari's eyes on her.

Nine steps... ten steps... bend. Her hand wrapped around the phaser.

Slowly, painstakingly, she rose back up again. She checked the setting, switched to kill.

Then she turned around and looked at the Volkari.

His beady eyes held onto hers. She couldn't discern the expression on his face, whether it was fear, or hatred, or something else. The large jaw and round little eyes lent him an almost cartoonish appearance...

But no... She could remember the Volkari commander, that day in engineering, when he slaughtered one of her crew after another. Megan. Jenny. Celes. Jerron. Lessing. Nichols. There was nothing cartoonish about him then, nothing absurd. His eyes opaque, without any hint of color or discernable pupil, had been far from absurd or silly... They were impenetrable, callous, ruthless...

And it seemed to her she saw the same qualities in the eyes of the helpless Volkari bound to the biobed before her. And her fingers twitched on the phaser. She looked away when something caught her eye. She noticed the body of Jenny Delaney, stretched out on a biobed in the far corner of the room, and her mood veered sharply back to anger. Hatred, fresh and potent, surged through her.

"Hoping for a snack?" she hissed, addressing the Volkari for the first time, gazing at him through dangerously glinting eyes.

He held her gaze for a long moment, and then his lips twisted into a sneer. "I told the man," the Volkari said slowly, his tone dripping with insolence, "As I will tell you... I would die before I would soil my lips on your flesh." He looked at her with undisguised contempt. "You are nothing but savages, feeding on other humanoids."

Her expression turned thunderous, and she tore forward angrily, prowling right up to his side. "How dare you..." she was almost breathless with rage, "You attack us... you attack us relentlessly... all we wanted was to get home, but it was too much to ask!... you slaughter my crew like cattle... you deprive us of the necessities for life... and you dare, DARE question this!" She grasped him impulsively by the collar, her fingernails raking his neck like talons. "You stole everything from us, you reduced us to animals, that we had to resort to this... and now you think you can mock us... that you're superior--"

He held her gaze unflinchingly, his tone belligerent. "My people don't maul helpless prisoners."

"No," It was an effort for Janeway to unclench her fist, and she shoved his head with a hard thump back to the biobed. "You just rip them open, don't you? You slaughter them in front of each other--"

"I know nothing of slaughter."

"Two months ago. Two months ago, your people came aboard my ship, and they killed one crewmember after another. They ripped them to pieces while they were helpless. What do you call that, Torvone? Is it some policy of yours? What do you call it, Torvone! Slaughter... murder..."

He held her eyes, his own face gray with anger . "From what I've seen of your people-- public service."

She backhanded him. His head snapped to the side, then slowly rolled forward. He sneered again.

"Weakling Federation... when my people come, they'll make you pay... you'll die screaming..."

"Oh, will I?" she hissed.

"We'll drown your men in their own blood... make whores of your women... throw you to the recruits--"

And he stopped when she leveled the phaser to his head. Her expression was demonic, and he froze, his breathing halted, as though realizing the peril of his situation for the first time.

"Will you?" she challenged, daring him to speak.

He said nothing.

I could kill him now, Janeway thought. I could kill this bastard, and no one would question it. She knew the crew would be glad. She knew she would be...

Six long months of fighting, of bloodshed... twelve years in the Delta Quadrant. She could justify it. The crew would be indifferent, and if she ever faced Starfleet, she could justify it.

Her anger fought with the faint, nagging voice in the back of her head, the same voice that had urged her to destroy the array, to condemn the crew to the Delta Quadrant. It had brought her nothing but trouble. Torvone had brought her nothing but trouble. Damn morality. Damn principles. Damn Torvone.

But Kathryn Janeway was still a Starfleet Officer.

The basics-- never shoot an unarmed man, never harm the helpless... She'd learned them from her father long before she learned them from Starfleet. The Volkari violated the morality of any decent being... now was she justified in doing the same? Could she cross that line? Could she go from a rash, justified act, to outright, premeditated murder? Because now she wasn't caught in the whirlwind of rage. She wasn't heedless of the consequences. Thanks to the Doctor, she knew exactly what she was about to do, what she would violate, and the consequences of her act.

Her weapon was a phaser. His was only words.

She took a step back, then another, fighting her instinct for murder as though it were a tangible force. She forced the phaser down to her side. She turned herself around and slowly made her way to the door.

Somewhere, she was vaguely aware of the Volkari throwing taunts at her. She was beyond the point where they'd have any impact.

"Janeway to the Doctor," she heard herself say, her voice strangely hollow.

"Doctor here," came the EMH's nervous voice.

"Doctor, I want you to return Jenny Delaney's body to Deck 14."

"Will she... be unnecessary?"

She heard the uncertainty in his words.

Finally, Janeway replied through gritted teeth, "Our... guest... refuses to eat. We can only respect his wishes."

The relief in his voice was audible as he replied, "Yes, Captain."

"And Doctor?"

"Captain?"

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will delete your personality subroutines. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Janeway out."