Pt 2- Left Behind
Although I do not possess much knowledge of your race, I am certain this must have adversely affected you …I apologise.
These were the first words Janeway had heard for quite some time as she resurfaced, awakening to the universe once more. Although she did not feel like re-entering the madness that surrounded her, there was a note of reserve, of sorrow in the mysterious woman's voice that called to something of a similar spirit in her, a reluctantly corresponding sympathy and understanding. With an effort, Janeway opened her eyes, and focussed on the abandoned surroundings. She seemed to be the only person around, but a hint of understanding touched her mind and a figure coalesced before her.
She raised an eyebrow. The smooth fair skin, pale gold hair and clear grey eyes that seemed to be concealing unfathomable emotion were too perfect, too idealized.
"You're not human, are you?" she asked rhetorically.
No, the other answered, lips unmoving. I'm not.
The human woman inhaled deeply. "Why am I here?"
This time the stranger spoke audibly, "Your destiny is your own. As for your presence here, it is beyond my knowledge."
"Can you release me?" Janeway asked, more because she felt it was expected than out of an intense desire to flee the area. In a detached observation, she noted that the variety of flower that the illusion of Kes had offered her grew in profusion around her.
The woman recaptured her attention as she answered, "I don't keep you here."
"I recall you apologizing to me a moment earlier."
"A mere matter of formality, as I am in part responsible for the hallucinations you experienced. When I detected your mental emanations, I delved deeper to discover who you were. The side-effects were unfortunate, I believe. For more than that, however, you will be disappointed; I have no answers for you," the woman said, irony flitting across her perfectly formed face. "I do not know what keeps me here. I cannot say why you do."
"Fair enough," she murmured.
"You are the first being I have encountered here. Your mental capabilities are limited, your form restricted, corporeal- but it seemed diplomatic to offer an apology."
"You were curious about me, and for the purposes of closer scrutiny, the social niceties had to be observed," Janeway stated. It almost seemed amusing, given the vast majority of aliens that Voyager had encountered who were more intent on destruction than polite conversation.
"That is one interpretation."
"I see."
"You certainly are unusual…" the woman murmured, then said in an offhand tone of introduction, "I am Saonae."
"I'm Kathryn Janeway."
"Where do you come from, Kathryn Janeway?"
"Can't you read my thoughts?" she asked.
"I would prefer to hear it from your own lips."
"Part of the study, I suppose…I am from Earth, a planet in a different quadrant."
"So what do you here, all this way from your home?"
"Try to return. Or at least, I did. And you?" Janeway took the initiative in asking a question of her own, not liking the line of inquiry this Sa-nai was taking. "Were you trapped here as well?"
"No," the other woman became more reserved. "I simply- cannot tolerate the idea of going elsewhere."
"You originated here?"
"A long time ago."
Janeway knew there was a story there. "And your people?"
"Gone. Eradicated. There used to be others, but I was responsible-" Saonae tensed as she struggled to contain the bitter words her tongue longed to set loose, to tell her story in hope of receiving redemption.
"You were responsible…?"
She looked away, lips tightening. "It was a long time ago."
Janeway said in a detached tone, "Evidently it hasn't been long enough, judging by how you still react to 'it'."
"I made a mistake, trusted those I shouldn't have, and for my foolishness and short-sightedness, my people paid the price. Can you understand that?" Saonae replied with anger.
Her bitterness was almost a tangible entity as she tried to repel the human woman, for reasons perhaps unknown even to her, in an effort to fuel the punishment she perceived was necessary to atone for her to endure in order to atone for past errors. It did not work that way however.
A correspondingly bitter smile quirked the corner of Janeway's lips as she replied, "Better than you could imagine. I don't know the exact circumstances of what befell you, but I understand how it feels to fail people you are responsible for, having that duty of care as a constant companion. And," she added, expressing these private thoughts to a stranger without hesitation or reluctance, only feeling a deep weariness that was almost fatalistic in nature, the impetus that sustained this monologue, "the need to isolate oneself in order to cope, to the extent of pushing others around you away, whether they are old acquaintances- or complete strangers, who are simply showing concern for someone who appears distressed."
Saonae looked at her sharply, the meaningful tone striking home the message.
"I do understand," Janeway repeated softly, at last, vehemently.
"Can you?"
Then suddenly, it overwhelmed her.
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She was the last of her line.
For the leader of the Ngatalh people, worry and frustration and fear for their way of life constantly dogged her. She was the last of the line that had kept her people alive for generations, and there was the very real possibility that she would be the one to fail years of trust and faith in her family.
The Ngatalh had lived down in the caves below the surface for centuries; and never, in all that time, realized that their home was not the place of their origin. When the lava flows had altered their previously predictable courses and had killed a few unfortunate families, blocking escape routes for more, the only route the survivors could take was up. To their surprise, inscriptions and diagrams figured prominently on the walls of caverns and narrow tunnels that they had never passed before this migration- yet they recognized the ancient symbols and the beliefs inscribed as their own.
She had found this discovery fascinating, wondering if the direction that they were headed could be the original homeland of her people. Yet why had they left? What had befallen her ancestors to prompt their exodus deep into the land?
And as she mulled over these questions with rapt fascination, she was abruptly recalled to her senses as the mental screams of the last person trapped by the lava sounded in her mind. Her eyes opened wide in that moment of death, then narrowed in piercing emotion.
Over forty had died because of her ineptitude, and she had been unable to do anything but shepherd the remaining to safety. Leaving those trapped, dying or already dead behind to do as best they could.
Years later, the echoes of the horrific screams still devastated her.
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All the woman was aware of was a blinding headache. She wanted to slip back into unconsciousness, but her awareness insisted on surfacing. With a sigh, she opened her eyes to see a plain white ceiling that seemed familiar and, oddly, also unfamiliar at the same.
As she wondered over the paradox, a stray thought informed her, I'm in Sickbay…before she wondered, where is Sickbay? And who is that?
In her direct line of vision was a balding, stocky man, dressed in a uniform with a blue swath running along the top of his jacket, marking a science and in this context, medical, officer. There was a rather relieved set to his face that she noticed at once, feeling it was out of the ordinary, though she could swear she had never seen the man before in her life.
A latent impulse made her say, "Report," and as soon as the word was out, she noticed that it soothingly rolled off the tongue, as though she had said a thousand times before and would again. Authority and an expectation to be obeyed seemed an ingrained trait of hers- that thought puzzled her, as many things in this relatively short period did and the pounding in her head increased as she thought, Who-? The unknown medical officer interrupted her before she could follow that line of thought.
"Ah, welcome back to the plane of the living. How do you feel?"
"Headache," she admitted succinctly.
He sighed with exaggerated disappointment. "Charming as always. Here, this should take care of it," he pressed a hypospray to her neck.
Some of the pain receded but not all.
"Is there anything else, Captain?"
His expression was now overlaid with a sarcastic tinge. Why, though? Was he normally like that? She knew she should know the answer to that but as much as she racked her brain, she couldn't quite pin it down. She did know his after all. His name was…
"Captain?" He asked again, seeming more concerned this time.
This was beginning to annoy her. She didn't enjoy her brain not responding to her questions. She knew it had the information somewhere, but she couldn't access it and so she snapped, "Who are you, exactly? What's your name?"
The man seemed taken aback. "Last time I checked the computer I was a hologram"- yes, that seemed right, a hologram- "and I didn't have a name, other than 'Doctor' or 'hey, you'," the sarcasm was back.
"As you are a doctor and I am the Captain, it seems I am entitled a little more respect than
I am currently receiving," she informed him tartly. "And if this is how you address myself and others on a regular basis, which I cannot recall, then perhaps I should appeal to your compassion for a person who happens to have lost their memory."
"You've lost your memory?" He was definitely concerned now, scanning her.
"I believe I just said that, Doctor. Although, I do recall- what's the date, the year?"
"It's 2375, Captain. What year do you recall up to?"
"2375?" Janeway repeated, stunned. "I can't remember anything after 2371, when I was took command of Voyager to enter the Badlands…" she trailed off.
"You considerably exceeded that mission, seeing as how we happen to be in the Delta Quadrant at the moment," the Doctor said off-hand, ignoring her gasp of shock.
"Four years…has changed a lot of things, I see," she said ruefully.
"Hmm, this is more serious than I had expected. I will have to give you a more comprehensive examination."
The last two words sat poorly with her. "I feel fine, Doctor."
"Yes, well, as that is your standard line for all occasions, from when you're seriously injured as opposed to when you are near death, you will forgive me if I do not take your word for it. Now, it is a pity that you retain your unfortunate impatience with being in Sickbay for extended periods of time even after this memory loss occurred, but you must understand that an amnesiac captain cannot be allowed to wander freely about the ship"- sternly- "You will remain here while I examine you properly and attempt to isolate the cause and then find the cure. Without complaining, unless you wish to extend your stay."
She looked at the overbearing hologram through narrowed eyes. "Were you this dictatorial with me before my memory loss?"
"Naturally," was the prompt answer.
"And did I follow your orders to the letter?"
He answered resignedly, "Rarely. But this is quite serious, you do realise. The human brain is a delicate tool. It may be some time before I can isolate exactly where the problem is, let alone device a successful treatment to counteract the damage. If at all," he admitted, a little subdued.
She shrugged. "I know, Doctor. I have the utmost confidence in you. However, I have this feeling that a few years would not have altered my tendency to be, as some say, a difficult patient. Naturally, I would hate to disconcert you by acting overtly different and actually co-operating for once."
"Naturally. Why, thank you for your concern. Absolutely delighted that for once, someone cares about my tender emotions and-"
"Doctor…"
He recalled himself at that sharp stare. The authority Janeway had wielded before this
little accident was still in evidence. "Ah, yes, the senior staff, I'll contact them now…"
Janeway shook her head in amusement. The Doctor did have such a tendency to spout soliloquies, and one had to stop him before- mid thought, she arrested her. How had she known that? Perhaps her memory would soon return naturally, without interference- excuse me, assistance, of course- from the Doctor. She waited for her senior staff to arrive.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Captain. How are you feeling?"
A tall man with a distinctive marking on the corner of his face greeted Janeway, who leapt to her feet in shock as she realized he was the Maquis captain Starfleet had ordered her to apprehend- Captain Chakotay. She looked at the Doctor, but he did not appear to be startled.
Looking closer at Chakotay, she also noticed he was in a Starfleet uniform. Chakotay looked back at her questioningly, seeming puzzled at her behaviour.
Feeling a little out of her depth, mustering a weak grin- the best she could do, given the circumstances- she answered, "I've been better."
He seemed to hear something amiss in her tone because he looked at her with greater concern, but before he could ask, eight people had gathered in the room, presumably her entire senior staff. Janeway was surprised; it seemed an awful number of people and for such a small ship, because including the Doctor and herself, that numbered ten.
"What is it, Doctor?" a woman with faint ridges on her forehead asked. "Can't you handle medical matters anymore? I have work to get done."
Janeway recognized a Klingon-human hybrid when she saw one. From memory, she matched the face to as B'Elanna Torres, another of the Maquis. She tried harder, trying to recall why former Maquis were now Starfleet officers, what Torres' duties on Voyager were, what on earth had happened to make her lose her memory, but nothing came back.
Janeway studied the other faces. Tuvok…she broke into a grin. One face that she was familiar with; they had been friends for about fifteen years. At least he was safe, that had been her primary mission, regardless of Starfleet orders to capture the Maquis, who were now apparently her officers…Her headache intensified and she left that issue alone.
The fresh-faced ensign she did not recognize. A sweet looking blond woman with unusual clothing- and ears, Janeway noticed- was also unfamiliar, as was the humanoid next to her, with oddly mottled skin and unusual hair. The human blonde with strange implants that she uneasily recognized as Borg looked impassively back at her. And then there was Tom Paris, who had formerly been in prison til she brought him on board as an observer and to provide information on how to capture the Maquis. Now he was in uniform, which led to a bemused smile on her face.
"Tom Paris," she was unable to keep from exclaiming aloud. "Reinstated as a lieutenant? It certainly has been a while." Then her surprised pleasure dimmed, realizing that for him it had not been. It was strange thinking that he knew more about her than she knew about herself…a few years of her life- gone.
They looked confused, and rightly so. Janeway raised an eyebrow at the Doctor, listening with interest to how the hologram would impart the news.
"The Captain has amnesia."
Well, Janeway reflected, that could have been handled better. He probably enjoys the shock value, though. As a hologram, I can't imagine he gets much attention. On that line of thought, how did a hologram end up as CMO? What happened to my medical staff?
There was shock and concern on all their faces.
"Is it permanent?"
"Can you cure her?"
"How did this happen?"
"How serious is it?" Chakotay, managing to make himself heard above the babble of voices, was apparently calm though inwardly was a different story. "Will her memory return on its own?"
"Perhaps," the Doctor shrugged. "Perhaps not. Perhaps only fragments. It's hard to say, precisely, how recovery will happen, if at all."
"Can you remember anything?" Torres addressed her Captain directly. A thought occurred to her, "Do you even know who I am?"
"B'Elanna Torres. You attended the Academy but left in your second year, after four disciplinary hearings and one suspension," she shrugged, "and later joined the Maquis after a parting of ways with Starfleet. I'm afraid that's all of relevance that I know of you."
"Four disciplinary…?" Paris repeated. "Weren't you busy!"
"They suffocated anyone who tried to breathe through all the rules and regulations in that damn place," Torres seethed, then halted herself with a sharp laugh. "You know, we're continuing a conversation you started about four and a half years ago."
"I'm afraid I don't know," Janeway said, "but I'll take your word for it. So, from that you became one of my senior staff…?"
"Chief Engineer," Torres introduced herself. "This is Tom Paris, flyboy. Harry Kim, perpetual ensign-"
"Hey," the young Asian man protested. "I have hopes, you know, don't shatter them so brutally like that!"
"Here's a thought, Harry," the 'flyboy' said, "Be really nice to the Captain while she doesn't remember you- you know, how you're always causing trouble, rebelling against orders, and getting into fights with other crewmembers on a regular basis. Maybe now you'll have a chance at that promotion!"
"Try to ignore him," the Doctor advised with a long-suffering sigh. "You are fortunate in that respect; it is rather difficult for me, however when he works in Sickbay on a regular basis."
"How do you like that for gratitude?" Paris said indignantly. "I give up my time to come and help you out in Sickbay-"
"I doubt it's for the company," the hologram said ironically.
"Well, I doubt it, too, if it's your company in question," Paris retorted.
The smaller, more ethereal blonde that Janeway had noticed earlier rolled her eyes. "Now, Tom, Doctor. Stop making a fuss, both of you," she said soothingly.
"Yes, well, in any case, I wouldn't advise believing a word that comes out of his mouth," the Doctor continued. "Our Mr Paris rather fancies himself the prankster of this ship, much to the detriment of his colleagues, who-"
"You don't need to bring that up now," the blonde interrupted.
Paris looked around with mock outrage on his face. "Did you hear that? Trying to malign my good name!"
Torres looked at him cynically. "Oh, really? What good name?"
Janeway gathered by the resignation on the others faces that this happened a lot. "I see
Tom, for one, hasn't changed much…"
"We have more important things to be discussing at the moment," again the blonde tried to turn the conversation back to more important channels. "Doctor?" she prompted.
"Yes, the Captain's condition," the Doctor cleared his throat. "Amnesia is most commonly the result of trauma to the head, which leads to haemorrhaging that damages the memory centre," he explained, "Some sections may be damaged or destroyed, associations cut off by an accident that indiscriminately wipes out certain memories yet leaves others unaffected. Sometimes unconsciously, the victim causes the blocked memories, perhaps because they cannot handle certain traumatic events and this is a coping mechanism to enable healing til they are sufficiently recovered to reclaim the memory. I can go into further detail but that is basically the gist of amnesia in layman's terms. In this case, however, there is no evidence of trauma."
"You do not consider amnesia to be sufficient evidence of trauma?"
"Now, Seven, don't be difficult. I meant physical trauma, of course. Amnesia is the symptom, but of what I cannot say with any certainty."
"You can remember your entire life until the Delta Quadrant?" Chakotay ignored this byplay and asked Janeway directly.
"Or a little earlier," Janeway replied, still unable to reconcile the renegade captain of a
Maquis cell as an officer of hers. "I don't recall the events that led us to be stranded in the Delta Quadrant, or how you became part of my crew."
"The Old Man's your First Officer now," Torres let her know.
"Oh, well, given the events of the day, I've lost the capacity to be startled any more. It doesn't surprise me at all that you," she looked at Chakotay, "would be my second in command." A sarcastic smile appeared on her face. "Why not?"
"I understand that this must be hard for you," the blonde said to her. "By the way, I'm Kes.
You allowed me to stay aboard Voyager, as well as Neelix," she introduced the odd humanoid Janeway had noted earlier, "and you saved my people, but that's a story for a different time. I think that for now, while you try to come to terms with what's happened, that perhaps you should go somewhere quieter, familiar…" she looked over at the Doctor, who nodded at her.
"By all means. Perhaps your quarters may stimulate some memory of your life here. I'll study the data I collected before this little meeting, and I'll need you to come in later to update your files, but other than that, I suppose there's nothing much else I can do," he said to Janeway. "Report to Sickbay immediately if you start showing any other symptoms, auditory or visual hallucinations, etc."
"Yes, Doctor," Janeway replied, still tight lipped. The stress was getting to her.
Kes smiled at Janeway. "Captain, follow me?"
She nodded brusquely and exited without a word to any of the others.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It did not help matters that Janeway could not recall her code to enter her room. She automatically put in the code that had been valid on the day she had entered the Badlands and had been momentarily shocked when it was not accepted. The sudden minor setback brought the enormity of the situation home to her as she had not accepted it before- if she was incapable of such a simple procedure, just entering her own quarters, what place could there be for her on her own ship? It was the supreme injustice that the moment she had been working towards ever since she had decided to switch over from Sciences and take the command track with typical single-minded determination, confident that she would eventually achieve her aim and refusing to entertain the nagging doubt that success would elude her, that now she had her objective within grasp, it was tainted, tarnished. This condition of hers could be permanent, and what then of her much vaunted captaincy?
Thoughts consumed with this train of thought, Janeway flinched from a sudden gentle touch as Kes, who had politely refrained from comment during her moment of introspection, reached out to her consolingly.
"Captain, don't worry, your confusion is understandable," the Ocampa said quietly.
"Computer," she addressed the interface. "Enable voice command for Captain Janeway."
"Thank you," she said rather shortly. "Computer, open doors."
Without waiting for the younger woman, she strode in, leaving Kes at the door and took a few minutes to unwind, draining a cup of coffee from the replicator, which thankfully did not require a password and so was easy to obtain. Knowing that she was behaving badly, she at last set the coffee mug down and looked contritely across at Kes, who had til then made pleasant conversation on small matters about the ship despite Janeway's reticence.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to inflict my mood on you," she released a breath of pent-up frustration, despite the calm demeanour she sought to convey.
"I don't think it's unreasonable to be overwhelmed," Kes said, choosing her words with care. Janeway was lowering her shields, and she did not want to reawaken her reserve. "I doubt I would be so handling it as well as you are under similar circumstances."
Janeway considered the serene Ocampa sceptically. "Really," she said flatly, the intonation indicating it was not a question.
"Oh, yes," Kes assured her with the utmost gravity. "I would most likely be throwing the largest of all tantrums-" Janeway could not suppress a grin at thought of this demure young woman acting in so undignified a manner. "-perhaps so dramatic as to rival Commander Tuvok in one of his emotional outbursts," she concluded. "He has been known to break down in tears during one of the Doctor's recitals in the Mess Hall."
Now Janeway laughed. "I can't imagine that at all," she said, trying to picture the stoic
Vulcan who she had been friends with for about fourteen- no, factoring in the missing years, it was eighteen years approximately, actually expressing emotion in such a raw form.
"Mr Tuvok has changed quite a lot since you last recall him," Kes said with an innocent expression.
Janeway chuckled again, then set down her empty mug on the coffee table before her. "You know, I almost feel human again." She looked across at the Ocampa and saw amusement framed by an odd fleeting sadness. "What is it?"
"Oh, it's nothing, Captain."
"Kes," she said mock-sternly.
"It's only that you're so much like the Captain I remember, only- you don't remember me at all. And there's a slight difference, too; not something I can quite place, but you're different in some way."
"I assume you're not referring to my partial amnesia?"
Kes smiled. "Yes, you may assume that. And I'll let you know if I can pinpoint what it is
I'm sensing."
"Understood…and, Kes?" Janeway was now subdued, reflective. "In these years we've known each other, you've never called me anything other than 'Captain'?"
"No," the Ocampa answered slowly, curiosity stirring. "I haven't."
The Captain inclined her head pensively, and then a faint sardonic tilt to her mouth appeared, rousing further curiosity on Kes' part.
"May I suggest you do so now? To be where I am at the moment, bereft of a few years worth of memories of my eagerly anticipated command, makes it rather odd to be called 'Captain'."
"I can understand that," Kes said easily.
"Oh, and in case you're unaware of it, my first name is Kathryn. I would be pleased if you could use it."
"Certainly, Captain. Oh, I'm sorry," Kes laughed.
"Captain…"
"It's instinct, and so hard to get used to after years of thinking something different. Certainly, Kathryn."
Janeway froze, her expression glazing.
"It's very peaceful, isn't it…it does seem unfair."
"Kathryn?"
"- Kathryn. You never wanted to take what we were willing to give…"
"Are you all right?" there was urgency in her voice.
"We will be here for you…just as we always were… I have to go, Kathryn…"
You are not alone.
Janeway swallowed, throat suddenly dry, and her eyes burned with the need to blink.
"I'm- fine," she said a little uncertainly. "I can't quite explain exactly what it was I experienced just then."
"A flashback?"
"It was your voice," she tried to concentrate on a memory that was quickly slipping beyond her reach. "I could also hear waves; feel sand, and sun on my face. You were trying to encourage me to do something," Janeway sighed, shaking her head. "I can't remember any more. It just overcame me suddenly when you called me 'Kathryn'."
Kes stilled. "When you asked me a few minutes ago whether in the years we've known each other, had I ever called you by your first name…"
"Yes?"
"I was wrong when I answered no."
"I see," she studied the troubled face across from her. "Why does that disturb you?"
"When you were comatose, the senior staff began rotations where we would keep you company," Kes explained. "It was during one of mine, when I was afraid you were slipping away, that I called you 'Kathryn'."
Janeway considered this. "Well, I don't suppose it's uncommon for people in comas, or even simply unconscious, to still continue to receive sensory information from their environment. Is it?"
"No, it isn't, although extensive study has yet to be conducted on this area. Mainstream research on it in the Federation has stagnated apparently, in the past century or so. But it is puzzling…that you would recall it now, in such vivid detail through flashback."
"It was as though I were at a beach," Janeway confirmed.
Kes shook her head in perplexity. "We should have picked up the associated shift in brain
waves. There was none."
"Let's chalk it down to an anomaly," the Captain suggested. "If I recall anything else, you'll be the next to know. For now, we should keep this to ourselves."
The Ocampa paused, but then nodded in agreement.
"Very well then-" she began, then a peculiar rictus of pain crossed with delight flitted over her face. "Capt- Kathryn!"
"Kes?" she said uncertainly.
She motioned her over, twisting around and clutching Janeway's hand to her back. "There, did you feel that?" she looked back over at Janeway, laughing as she asked the question.
Janeway could feel the other woman's absolute joy, even as a tiny flutter against her hand made her laugh as well.
"Oh, Kes, you're pregnant? Congratulations!"
"Thank you," Kes still looked dazed with emotion. Then she surged upwards, making her way for the door. "Excuse me, Capt- sorry, Kathryn, but I have to go find Neelix. He's the father," she explained over her shoulder as she left the room. "I'll see you later!"
The door shut behind her sudden departure, and Janeway dropped to the couch, abruptly exhausted. There was so much to deal with, and to understand! How she could have lost her memory, how she had ended up in the Delta Quadrant- which no one had fully explained to her yet- how the renegade captain she had been sent to capture was now First Officer on her ship and that Kes, whom she had just met yet paradoxically known for years, was pregnant… Another laugh escaped her at the memory of the Ocampa's dazed appearance, how her previously unvarying composure and dignity had deserted her, leaving behind a giddy mother-to-be who was practically intoxicated with joy.
She released a sigh, rubbing at her head as she wondered what to do. Her logs, she decided. That would get her up to date, and give her some insight into what she had lost, who she had been out here.
Accessing her Captain's logs was an easy task, but she could not bypass the authorization code required to access her personal logs. Shrugging, she began playback from the very first log.
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The door chime awoke her to the real world. Janeway rolled her head around on her shoulders, pressing a hand to her aching neck and checked the time. She was surprised to find she had spent practically three hours selectively reviewing her logs, and she hadn't even finished the first year yet.
"Come in," she called, expecting Kes, then stiffening as the Maquis captain entered.
Don't be insulting, Janeway. He's your First Officer. That has to count for something.
"Captain," Chakotay greeted her impassively. "How are you feeling?"
Janeway shrugged noncommittally, "I'm fine." She narrowed her eyes as a tiny grin appeared on her First Officer's face. "What is it?"
"Déjà vu," he answered cryptically.
She raised an eyebrow, but he seemed unwilling to elaborate.
"Well, sit down, make yourself at home," a little irony coloured her tone. "Coffee?"
"No, thank you. I don't drink it."
"I see."
"Have I lost what little credence I had in your eyes?" he asked with amusement.
"That depends," Janeway said.
"On?"
She looked at him seriously. "Do you like dogs?"
"Yes," Chakotay said, laughing. "Am I forgiven now?"
"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"
Janeway felt a little odd at bantering with the man like this, at the easy camaraderie that had sprung up in less than a minute. Given that they had previously been on opposite sides of the law, that they had actually been enemies, it was unsettling to now interact in the manner of friends with him.
He must have realized the slight discomfort he was causing her. "I won't keep you long, Captain. I just wanted to-"
"Chakotay," she interrupted.
"Yes?" he said, a little taken aback.
"You have been my First Officer for the past four years. I've been going through the first year's logs, and it seems I held you in high regard. I think I can trust my"- a note of amused uncertainty twisted the word- "assessment of you."
"If you can't trust yourself…" he quipped lightly.
"Exactly. The thought was abhorrent to me at first, and it still is, but the fact is that as
I am now, I am incapable of functioning as this ship's Captain, and I think you all know that. So for now, I'm going to- depend on you; make you Acting Captain." A grimace pinched her lips together.
He studied her closely, but did not object.
Of course not, she thought bleakly. They were probably all worrying about how to broach the topic. She was surprised that Tuvok had not approached her on the topic, with his unique brand of Vulcan logic and candour, but that was of no consequence at the moment.
"Computer, recognize Kathryn Janeway, Captain."
"Confirmed identity: Captain Kathryn Janeway," the computer spoke.
"Computer, pass over the voice control of the starship USS Voyager to Acting Captain
Chakotay."
She inhaled deeply as the deed was done and the computer confirmed, "Control of the Starship USS Voyager has been transferred to Acting Captain Chakotay. Voice recognition complete."
Janeway sat back down, realizing that she had been standing at attention. "There are times when I feel like punching the person who programmed that damned composed…placid…self-important voice," she remarked, the light tone at odds with the teeth she still clenched and her rigidly held body.
"I agree," Chakotay said, sitting down. "I might add that I am touched at the gesture. Placing your trust in me couldn't have been easy given the circumstances."
"Yes, well," she waved it off. "As you said, if I can't trust myself, who can I trust?"
He nodded, and let the subject slip.
"So," he nodded at the personal monitor she had been viewing her logs on. "Learn anything interesting?"
"I suppose that depends on how you define 'interesting'. Does learning I stranded two crews thousands of light years from home apply? Or that I performed a procedure that killed a crewmember to restore Tuvok and this Neelix? And how I've had quite a few run-ins with the Borg, not the least when attempting to form an alliance with them?"
"We've certainly not languished in boredom," he quipped.
"That must be the understatement of the century. I hope you do a better job as Acting Captain than as First Officer. What were you thinking?"
"To allow you to do these things?" he completed wryly. "It's never a matter of allowing you to do anything. You must admit you're headstrong, and when you're set on your course, nothing short of a photon torpedo is going to alter it."
She nodded, shrugged.
"And it may take a few dozen of those," Chakotay added.
Janeway sniffed severely. "So what have you been occupying yourself with while I was playing god and single-handedly risking the lives of the crew?" she demanded, trying to do her part in fending off the despondency that threatened.
"I'm in charge of damage control," he said deadpan.
That brought a crooked grin to her face.
"And four years later, here we are."
"Here we are indeed," he echoed.
"I need some more coffee."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It was like meeting Kathryn Janeway all over again, starting from scratch, so to speak. Chakotay found the experience bizarre, but fascinating. When he had first seen her after she had pulled off the miracle he and everyone else had been praying for, the first impulse he had was to wring her neck for all she had put him through.
Thankfully, he had restrained himself, though then hysteria threatened when she replied that she felt 'fine'. The line she had reserved especially for him, with the distant, detached manner that let him know he was not welcome. But there was a refreshing lack of subtext, and he honestly felt no snub had been intended. She could know nothing of their history; there was no need for her to act as she had been for the past few years.
-and now I understand why-
Chakotay grimly shuttled that thought to the side; he would deal with the guilt later.
Naturally she had been rather reserved at first; he couldn't imagine how he would have felt had he been the one suffering a memory loss, possibly returned to the days when he had been a Maquis, and then to be told he was an officer aboard a Starfleet vessel… It would be as inconceivable as she must believe this alliance with the former Maquis to be.
Then the reserve melted and the mood lightened. The old comfortable familiarity with each other that he had missed was back, and it was disquieting to realize how addicted he was to it. He had to wonder how he would react when her memory returned, and along with it the distance that had grown between them.
Was it too late to hope for more?
"Chakotay, you're light years away."
He looked back at her guiltily, but was saved from having to answer when the door chime rang.
Janeway grinned at him. "Saved by the bell. Come!" she said, and the doors hissed open to admit Neelix, the father of Kes' child, she recalled.
The Talaxian was cheerily toting a large container. "Hello, Captain. Commander," he acknowledged Chakotay before turning his attention back to Janeway. "It's so good to see you up and about as usual. You, uh," he moved closer and asked in a stage whisper, "haven't got your memory back?"
"No, I'm afraid not," she replied, a little bemused at the larger than life personality Neelix exhibited.
"Ah, well," he rocked back on his heels. "Just give it some time."
"I plan to," she assured him diplomatically, then a wrinkle appeared between her brows.
"Now, whatever is that- I could swear I was smelling-?" she looked at Neelix quizzically, and was surprised by the large grin spreading across his face.
"Oh, now this is one trait of our Captain that could never be erased. I just knew you would still be craving"- he opened the lid dramatically- "her most favourite beverage in the world…"
"Neelix," Janeway could only stare at the large canister, stunned.
"It's the real thing," he told her proudly. "Well…not exactly, of course, but the substituted ingredients are very close to the original, I believe and I've been doing quite a lot of research on the subject, so I should know. And there's plenty more where this came from."
"I- Neelix, well…"
Chakotay smothered a grin of his own. This was the first time he had seen her literally
struck speechless.
"Don't know what to say?" Neelix filled in with good humour. "That's all right. Your expression is thanks enough. Here you go, Captain-"
"Kathryn."
"I- beg your pardon?"
Janeway, having regained her composure, smiled at the flustered Talaxian.
"Call me Kathryn," she deftly relieved him of the coffee. "Oh, this smells heavenly. You are a genius. I am glad I decided, or so my logs tell me anyhow, to welcome you and Kes aboard. This is wonderful."
Neelix shrugged, unused to this unfettered enthusiasm.
"Well, you know, it was my pleasure, Captain. Kathryn," he spread his hands apologetically. "It'll take some getting used to. I'm pleased you appreciate the coffee," his irrepressible spirit returned, and he looked meaningfully at the canister she was still cradling. "I'll leave you two alone, now, I'd better be getting back to the Mess Hall. By the way, there's a standing invitation for you there, Kathryn, so anytime you're hungry…"
"I'll know where to go," she smiled.
When he'd left, she inhaled long and deeply, enjoying the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. "I'm beginning to think this wasn't such a bad deal after all," she murmured.
Chakotay thought wryly that he had never met anyone more of an addict to coffee than Kathryn Janeway. "Did you know," he began rhetorically, " that once you were determined to enter a nebula, and one of the reasons you cited- none of the bridge crew will ever forget that moment- was that 'coffee's in that nebula'…" he chuckled at the memory. "There was such unholy glee in your eyes at the thought."
She looked over the rim of the cup she was now drinking from.
"I can imagine," she answered, amused at herself.
Janeway heard a sigh, and saw that Chakotay now looked rather serious and grim. She recalled earlier, when Neelix had interrupted, he had a similar expression, and she didn't think it was any sort of positive matter he was mulling over.
"Chakotay, what's wrong?" she asked bluntly. Perhaps that would shock him into answering the question honestly, without evasion.
But she should have known he wouldn't. The man looked at her, an ironic half-smile playing on his lips, drawing out the deep dimples in one cheek.
"It's just been a while," he answered at last.
"Since?"
"This," he waved around him at the scene; he casually sprawled on her couch, and she curled up on a chair, idly chatting about whatever came to mind.
Janeway was not quite certain what he meant, and waited to see if he would clarify.
"How far have you gone in your logs?" he asked suddenly.
"I'm still slogging through the first year, just after the time a mysterious entity was twisting the ship around, and rendered me unconscious in a decidedly alien form of First Contact," she answered dryly.
"Perhaps you should skip ahead to about- 49640, or thereabouts."
"What'll I find?"
Chakotay looked away. "Maybe more than I can tell you. You should read it, though."
"All right," she said, uncertain what he was hinting at. "I'll do that."
"Well, Kathryn, I'd better leave you to it. Good night."
"Chakotay," she stopped him at the door, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Breakfast tomorrow? 0600?"
Chakotay turned towards her, and she was again struck by the bleakness in his eyes. He was uncertain what to say. On the one hand, he wanted to preserve this closeness for as long as he could, but on the other…if she viewed the logs, and read between the lines, it may be uncomfortable, to say the least.
Then his jaw set. One time he had accepted her decision to end the emerging relationship between them, perhaps because she was scared, maybe because of her responsibilities or because of her then secret impending death. But a relationship wasn't about one person
making unilateral decisions, and he was partially at fault for allowing her to do so- briefly, he felt amusement at the concept of 'allowing' Kathryn to do anything, as he had teased the woman herself earlier in the evening- but now that he had a second chance, he wasn't going to let it slip.
"Sounds good to me."
He offered her a genuine smile, the tension Janeway had sensed before vanishing, and then left.
She shook her head as she moved back to the monitor to find the log for the time period he had described. There were undercurrents she wasn't aware of, and it was time to lay a few to rest.
Janeway wondered rhetorically, Why do I get the feeling I'm going to be regretting a whole
lot of choices I don't even remember making?
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Looks delicious."
"Fresh from the replicator," Janeway smirked. "I never did learn to cook."
"At least, not without rendering the food inedible," he said with quiet amusement.
Chakotay had not betrayed any visible sign of his edginess, but she could tell he was definitely on edge. And now, she had a little more understanding of why.
The night before, she learnt that the two of them had succumbed to a virus that forced them to remain on a planet, the atmosphere of which somehow inhibited the effects of their illness. For two months the two had lived together, til Voyager returned with a cure from a Vidiian doctor, Danara Pel.
This was on the official record, and all that was on it. Dissatisfied, she transferred her attention to her personal log. Most of her life, she had never had a problem keeping various codes for different functions straight, and had delighted in producing the most complicated variations possible. Her sisters certainly hadn't been amused the time she had encoded their alarm to wake them up at 0600 every morning, and they had not been able to override the lockout.
But now she had the insatiable curiosity to find out exactly what thoughts she had hidden away so meticulously. She went back in her mind over the different codes she had favoured over the years, even back in her childhood. The usual daily-altering combination of a section of that particular day's stardate with a fragment of her Academy entrance score and her beloved dog's name, Molly, didn't work, although she had been using it ever since she had been a cadet. Janeway wasn't the best hacker around, though she briefly entertained the idea of bringing in Tuvok before rejecting it. The Vulcan would just complicate matters.
At last she had been able to isolate the type of password; a simple enough code, three letters and a date. She had tried every member of her family's birthday, though that had been rather unlikely and thought of other significant days before it struck her. This entry was obviously a highly personal one, something she herself wouldn't want to read all too often. The code was more likely to be a reminder of some painful incident in the past, so that the thought of the log would be associated with that event and discourage her from thinking of it, or what it was concerned with; the time period she had been stranded with Chakotay. Classical conditioning.
So she had tried the time when Cardassians had captured her and Admiral Paris, as well as when her mother had been seriously ill and on the verge of dying, then realized that true to the reason behind the code, she was procrastinating.
"Why do I need to do this?" she had asked herself, getting up and pacing the room restlessly. "Is it that important?" Janeway had been psyching herself out of facing whatever truth was in the log, and she was annoyed- for letting 'herself' win.
Sitting down again, she thought back to that bleak day in her life; both father and fiancée trapped and dying, and only enough energy to beam one out to safety. She had not accepted that was her only option: to choose whose life she valued more…and so she had confidently, arrogantly, attempted a maneuver to beam them both up.
It had failed.
Tears stung at her eyes with sudden ferocity. After she had realized her failure, she had not much cared about her fate. Indeed, she had almost welcomed death. After her nickname as a cadet at the Academy, being frozen in ice seemed an apt, if ironic, way to die. With a little shudder, she tried the date her father had died, and for the word 'dad'. It was accepted.
And then she had realized she had opened up Pandora's Box.
"Kathryn?"
Janeway snapped her attention back to the man in front of her, who was waving a hand before her eyes teasingly.
"I'm sorry, Chakotay, my mind just wandered."
He leant back in his chair.
"You found it, didn't you?"
Janeway didn't bother pretending not to know what he was talking about. Her 'other self' had done a fine job of that already.
"Yes, I did," she replied evenly. "You were right."
"About?"
"I learnt more than you could ever have explained to me. And maybe I needed to see it myself to understand."
"Do you?"
"Not really. What I did, yes, the motivations- perhaps. But…no."
The bleak look was back.
"You- she, changed a lot. The Delta Quadrant has that effect."
She was rather tired of that look.
"Stop it," Janeway told him.
That provoked a look of surprise.
"A vast improvement," she approved. "I don't want to be petulant, really I don't, but it certainly is not pleasant seeing what she did to you. Or to the others. They all looked confused, I think, at how I acted. As though most of the time, the 'me' they knew never displayed- gratitude for something they did, for example, or pleasure over an event, any sort of human emotion. It was as though…as though they were trying to prompt me, and were surprised I picked up on the cues."
"To be fair, she was dying," Chakotay said. "This way was easier."
"You're still defending her," she shook her head. "It certainly was easier, for her. She must have done something right to merit such devotion but I think it was rather blind, and she took advantage of it to accomplish whatever that she wanted done."
"You do realize you're talking about yourself."
"But in a way, I'm not," she argued. "It's like a temporal paradox, god forbid-"
"Careful, you'll get a headache," Chakotay said warningly.
She smiled mockingly, then continued, "- as I was saying, it is like a hypothetical scenario where my younger self travels to the future and learns about her older self, what she was became, what had happened to her, etc. but they're not the same people. The experiences that shaped one personality have not yet affected the other. I lack the context that altered me to become her. The only difference in this situation is that no temporal shift has occurred."
"That's actually a rather apt analogy," Chakotay considered it. "We've all seen the difference in you…" he subjected her to a visual examination, taking in the casual dress- a change from the standard uniform that she had taken to more or less living in- and the more relaxed visage that lacked the usual traces of fatigue and tension that had indicated the strain of the burden their Captain had endured on her own. "You are actually a different person, even if trapped in the body and life of your 'future', for the lack of a better term, self."
"Exactly," she said triumphantly.
"But what are you going to do when you regain your memories?"
Janeway stared at him, lost for an answer.
"I don't know," she whispered. "This is rather a unique situation; rarely does anyone have the opportunity to objectively view themselves as I am now. But if I were to revert to who I was before…"
"Even if you do remember"- Janeway noted now he was saying 'if' she remembered, rather than 'when' as he had just before- "you will still have memories of your time as you. It doesn't have to go back to the way it was before."
"Doesn't it?" she asked ironically, feeling a sense of inevitability coming over her, as though the decisions had already been made, consequences occurred and all she was doing here was trying to catch up with something predetermined, that she had no control over.
"Does it?"
"Won't I?"
He smiled reluctantly. "Will you?"
"Mustn't I?" she trailed off.
Chakotay shook his head regretfully. "I have no answers for you, I'm afraid." He noticed her face tightening, expression blank.
"Then you will be disappointed…I have no answers for you…"
"Kathryn?" he frowned.
"I do not know what keeps me here- I am afraid I cannot say why you do…"
Chakotay repeated, "Kathryn?"
"I made a mistake, trusted those I shouldn't have, and for my foolishness and short-sightedness, my people paid the price. Can you understand that?"
Janeway looked across at woman in despair, saw the perfect features of a face that was ethereal in its beauty, connected to this universe only through the pain and anguish that she could discern.
She answered, "Better than you could imagine…I understand how it feels to fail people you are responsible for, having that duty of care as a constant companion…the need to isolate oneself in order to cope, to the extent of pushing others around you away…
"I do understand," Janeway repeated softly, vehemently.
"Can you?"
Then suddenly, it overwhelmed her.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Upward and onwards they travelled, doing so on little more than belief in their leader, the
one who had already failed them. All could feel the shiver of death, those who had been mind-linked now forever silent. Yet they rallied still around the one who led them.
And she kept her hurt to herself. She could not afford to show weakness, not in such a situation as this. Thrusting the grief and misery deep down inside her almost violently, she strode on, searching for a haven she was not certain existed.
They made it to the surface, and although blinded at first in the fierce light of a strange orb in the sky. She studied it dispassionately after her eyes adapted; it was not as beautiful as the orb that had belonged to her people, before it had gone missing. Before people had started dying. Before- before-
Before them, other creatures stood, faces inscrutable. Such alien faces, she marvelled. One of the children, unafraid, ran towards them, reaching out…
That one precious life lingered in her mind, and numbness spread over her as she recalled what had followed that innocent action.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The now familiar sight of Sickbay's ceiling met Janeway's eyes, and frowning, she turned her head to see Chakotay seated at her side.
"What happened?" she asked him.
He was about to speak, but footsteps approached, and amusement lit his eyes, momentarily replacing the worry. He was only able to warn, "I think the Doctor's on the warpath," before the hologram descended and began rebuking her.
"I really couldn't say, perhaps you could tell me," the Doctor said coldly, apparently provoked by the question she had posed to Chakotay. "I thought I had told you to report to
Sickbay if you experienced after-effects such as hallucinations. This is serious, Captain.
You cannot afford to wave that fact away carelessly as you so often do, if you feel-"
"Doctor," Janeway cut in. "Firstly, with regard to waving away facts carelessly, I have no idea what you're talking about- literally. Secondly, as I told Kes," she glanced at the Ocampa who shrugged apologetically, "I wasn't sure it meant anything and that I would speak to you if it happened again."
"Be that as it may," the Doctor did not appear much mollified, "you should have let me be the judge of what the first experience you had with this- whatever it was, hallucination, memory, subconscious details surfacing from some connection you do not consciously recognize, rather than keeping it from me."
"I apologize if I offended you," Janeway looked the Doctor directly in the eye as she said so. The idea of apologising to a hologram would not normally have occurred to her, nor would it have reflected ill on her character, as holograms generally were not classified as 'intelligent life forms'. However, in the brief time she had gotten to know the Doctor, it was clear that he was self-aware and mentally capable. In fact, she had come to quite respect his authority, even if she was not inclined to make it easy for him when he attempted to browbeat her. The apology was simple and sincere, and it was received with startled silence by the hologram, who although exercising enough self-control to keep his jaw from dropping, was nonetheless openly surprised.
Janeway felt some inner satisfaction at having rendered him speechless. "Now will someone tell me what happened?" she redirected her attention to the important details.
"You just froze," Chakotay filled in. "One minute you were lively, animated, next moment-"
he shook his head. "It was like you weren't there anymore."
"What were we talking about?"
Chakotay paused, "The result of regaining your memory," he said smoothly. "Then 'Twenty Questions'."
"But what did you say exactly? I have the feeling this is important; it triggered the flashback or delusion. I was asking you a question, and you said…"
"That I couldn't answer…no, that I didn't have any answers for you," Chakotay said after some thought.
"Yes, that's right," she mused. "Someone else said that, I remember it, I can almost- it was a female voice, there was a woman with me, I think," she looked up in confusion. "She was sad, or bitter, rather, about something she had done. And-" her eyes widened in shock.
"And what?" the Doctor prompted.
Chakotay grasped her hand comfortingly. She tightened her own around his.
The Doctor repeated, "And?"
"I think I know," Chakotay said. "You remembered a little…of who you are."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You spoke, I couldn't hear a lot of what you said, but some of it was unmistakably your other self."
"I remember that," Janeway said tonelessly. "I knew what she felt. I can't even begin to express…" she looked away. Some of her preconceptions about the supposedly selfish, manipulative person she had become would have to be revised, it seemed. Perhaps those adjectives still stood, but the motivations behind them…would bear thinking about.
Chakotay was speaking quietly to the Doctor, who frowned but allowed Kes to lead him away. "Are you all right?" he asked her softly once they were given some privacy.
"I'm fi-" she began, then stopped short. "I'm not, actually, not really," she admitted, wetting her lips. "I'm beginning to understand my other self, and it makes me wonder…whether I'm…"
"Becoming her?"
"Yes. It's somewhat unnerving."
He nodded.
Janeway's gaze fell on a drawing by the bio-bed and looked at it with interest.
"Naomi Wildman drew that for you. A 'get well soon' card."
"Oh," Janeway said, a little puzzled at why a member of the crew would be drawing pictures for her, but returned her attention to Chakotay. "Shouldn't you be on the bridge?"
"I'm sure the Captain will understand," he smiled. "I've got someone far more important things to keep company at the moment."
"Flatterer."
"That implies insincerity," he pointed out.
She closed her eyes in amusement, feeling an irresistible urge to laugh at nothing in particular. Despite the strange things that were happening to her, it somehow didn't seem real, like it couldn't touch her anymore.
And Chakotay was the reason for the change in perspective. She opened her eyes and looked at him, wondering at how much she had come to like him in- less than a day, she realized. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours.
He looked curious.
"Just thinking how much has happened in so short a period of time," she explained.
"Not even twenty-four hours yet," he unconsciously echoed her thoughts. "But I'd better check in with the bridge," he stood reluctantly. "Or else Tuvok will probably log a complaint in my file. Dereliction of duty."
"We wouldn't want that, now would we?" she smiled.
"You'd better play nicely with the Doctor; I've arranged for a meeting as soon as you were
able."
She looked at him darkly. "I'm able." At his meaningful nod at the hologram, she sighed.
"But I suppose I'd see if the Doctor is in any mood to release me-"
"And if he isn't?"
"-and if he isn't, leave anyway."
"Indeed," he mimicked Tuvok, and they both laughed.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seemingly satisfied with matters as they now lay, and having established his place in the pecking order, the Doctor did not make a fuss. He did, however, offer her a kindly lecture, which she did him the courtesy of listening to if not bothering to refrain from rolling her eyes at the condescension.
"Doctor, I'm an amnesiac, not an incompetent."
"It happens to the best of you," he said readily, with not a little smugness in his tone. "That's the way of organic beings. Doomed to suffer the flaws and frailties of your too, too solid flesh…" he trailed off. "Now how did that the Shakespearean passage go…?"
"You do recall when B'Elanna reprogrammed you to experience the flaws and frailties you just mentioned?" Kes asked innocently. "Actually, that was on two occasions, wasn't it?" She did not seem to notice the Doctor's sudden look of dismay and his attempts to hush her. "Once, when you weren't sympathetic to the sufferers of the flu that was going around- and the result was your sneezing and sniffing along with them."
"All right, Kes, I believe that is-"
"And then you experienced pregnancy…" she continued wickedly.
The Doctor hurried off in the direction of his office, muttering something about having to find his mobile emitter.
"Brava, Kes," Janeway smiled at the Ocampa.
"I feel a little guilty…but really, it is a good idea to nip this thing off in the bud. The Doctor's been obsessing a little lately on Shakespeare. He's even considering taking that name for his own."
"Doctor Shakespeare?" she said dubiously.
Kes shrugged. "Exactly. That was why I had to distract him."
Janeway said appreciatively, "You know, you really should receive a medal for services well rendered. Anyone with that deft touch of yours when it comes to handling a sensitive situation tactfully deserves it all right."
"Why thank you, Kathryn," Kes said lightly. "I'll be sure to bring it up at the meeting if you'll nominate me."
"Consider yourself nominated," she laid a friendly hand on Kes' shoulder.
"Let's go make our appearance then."
After the Doctor caught up with the rest of them, fashionably late and glancing nervously at
Kes, who smiled innocently at him, Chakotay apprised the others of the change of command.
That received a few raised eyebrows, but their surprise was reserved more for the changed personality they could detect in the person who had been 'the Captain' to them for so long.
"What do we tell the lower decks?" Paris enquired.
"The truth, I'd imagine," Torres snapped. "This is something too big to suppress."
Kim looked hesitant. "But is this- permanent?"
"The title 'Acting Captain' would not seem to indicate so," Seven said, though she looked challengingly at the man who bore the rank.
"We- that is, Kathryn and I-" the casual use of her first name raised more brows, excluding Kes and Neelix, of course, "thought it would be best for the time being that I assume command, but it is not going to be permanent, no. I am certain that she will be capable of
resuming command of the ship in the near future, but I'd have to pass the buck to the Doctor for a more detailed explanation about the uncertainty inherent to amnesia, if you wanted me to commit to anything other than 'sometime soon'. "And as for the specifics you tell your departments," Chakotay shrugged, "I'll leave it up to your judgement."
"Shouldn't there be, oh, I don't know- a formal announcement of some sort?" Paris asked. "From the woman of the hour herself."
"Saying what exactly, flyboy? 'This is the Captain- sort of, well, not really…or at least, not the one you're familiar with. But that's beside the point…'" Torres said mockingly.
"Hey," he assumed a wounded expression. "I'm on your side here- you were the one who wanted the whole crew to know exactly what going on."
"This conversation is irrelevant," Seven interjected. "Certainly it is not conducive to planning a means of response to the situation."
Janeway smothered a grin as the previously sparring couple were united in their joint glares directed towards the ex-drone. Seven seemed to have a talent for rubbing people the wrong way, judging by the limited interaction she'd had with the young woman. Eyeing the Borg implants once again with slight concern- is it something people eventually get used to? She wondered briefly- Janeway decided she would have to have a conversation with Ms Seven of Nine to determine exactly what her pseudo-future self had been about bringing her on board Voyager. A former Borg drone, she marvelled, as a functioning and productive member of a Starfleet ship- nothing short of remarkable, not to mention the incredible risk involved with such a venture. Her reading had not yet brought her to the point of contact with the Borg and with a small thrill of apprehension, pinpointing the log for that particular encounter suddenly became a priority. For all the destruction the single Borg cube had wrought at Wolf 359, and the countless deaths it had caused, the Federation still knew precious little about its objectives or culture- though as Jean-Luc had insisted, the Borg had no culture as one would describe it, no individual distinctiveness, no shared art or music or entertainment and even its technology was stolen from other species. They existed within a vacuum of sorts, a self-imposed emptiness that drained them of anything but the relentless obligation to assimilate all beings, willing or not.
The relentless obligation to kill all beings, innocent and blameless…
Janeway froze.
A culture of chilling violence and bloodshed that was all the worse for the numbed brutality with which its members dealt death and destruction. One had the sense that they lacked feeling at all, that there was only meaningless devastation for no purpose at all. The wanton slaughter was not for self-gratification or pleasure, only- some sort of compulsion beyond her understanding. But what could it be, if they were not at the mercy of bloodthirsty instincts, a barbarian mentality, what could motivate this carnage?
Alien eyes stared into her own, heartbreaking emotion clearly evident for all the layers of alien subtext that separated their two species. Down to the very core of this being, whoever she was, there was only despair. And right now, all that painfully rending emotion was being directed straight at her, washing over her in waves of agonizing sensation, overloading her brain with this vicious onslaught, and she couldn't see- move- think-
Breathe. Choking, lungs straining, the typically reflex action of taking in oxygen became a laborious task requiring supreme concentration and effort. It was a losing battle, and one that concluded abruptly, as her body gave in and Janeway collapsed.
-End Pt2-