CHAPTER 6 – Regrets are Futile

In the blink of an eye Kathryn found herself, yet again in the relative safety of her quarters. Q however, was conspicuously absent.

Kathryn paused a moment. Then, she asked the computer for the time and date. It confirmed that she was indeed back when she should be. She walked a few paces and then slumped into a chair at her dining table and put her face in her hands. When she reopened her eyes, there was a leather-bound logbook sitting in front of her on the table. Kathryn eyed it warily. It was one she had used from time to time when she felt like hand-writing little notes, but she didn't remember having left it there.

Hesitantly, she opened the book to where the attached red-satin marker had been last placed. In handwriting that she knew was her own, but was oddly more disheveled and hasty than her normal calligraphic style, were words she knew she had never written.

As she began to read, she felt herself whisked away to another place. Sunlight shone around her. She was perched, still sitting, but now high up on a rocky cliff overlooking a vast ocean. The air smelled of salt and fish. She was alone, legs dangling over the edge of what would have been certain death were she to lean too far forward. She considered the book in her hands and continued to read.

=/\=

January 5, 2375

It has been three-hundred and sixty-five days. A full year and I feel it is finally time to write down the rest of what really happened. The technical matters, the complete factual history is recorded in my personal logs. But this. This I had to write by hand. It feels more human somehow to record the last of my thoughts in this way.

I should have risked damaging my personal relationship with Chakotay, I realize that now. I allowed my feelings for him to get in the way. Even if he never spoke to me again, which I'm sure wouldn't have been the case, I should have followed my instincts and followed through with my plan to forge an alliance with the Borg against Species 8472. But when I woke up in sickbay, I was confused. I was still reeling from his sudden deviance from our plans, and he seemed so sure. I wanted to believe in him. I wanted someone else to make the decisions just that one time.

To this day, I don't know if we would have been successful had I pressed the issue. I was prepared to send him to the brig for his insubordination, but I couldn't do it. If we only could have worked together instead of against one another…. At least maybe then we would have died trying.

As it happened, I deferred to his decision to retreat. Once we had navigated out of fluidic space, we turned back and headed for the nearest M-class planet. This one. We almost made it too, but the Borg were gaining on us and we found ourselves surrounded. The ship took heavy damage. With transporters offline, many of the crew already dead, and our orbit destabilizing, I ordered all hands to abandon ship.

Had he lived to see the moment, I'm certain Chakotay would have been by my side while I tried in vain to protect those pods. His body was with me at least, and perhaps his spirit.

I descended with Voyager into the upper atmosphere; by then, the cubes were on top of us. And suddenly, to my horror, the pods began to disappear. Some of them were beamed away, others were caught in fire-green tractor beams. Not a single one landed on the planet.

I still don't know why the collective didn't come for me too. Maybe they didn't know there was anyone left. Or, I wasn't worth the effort. The nights I've spent wishing I could have died up there…. Or, that I could have been taken with them. I know better than to delude myself into believing that I could have made a difference at that point, but at least I wouldn't have abandoned my crew. My friends.

My only real hope is that more of them were killed than assimilated. It haunts me. I can't help but imagine each of them being transformed into drones, forced to mindlessly perpetuate the terror that is the Borg. On nights when I want some comfort, I think of them having already been ripped to shreds by 8472; at least then I can believe that their suffering is over.

I cannot deal with the anguish of their loss—my loss—any longer. This planet, it's too good for me. The water is clean and pure, and the food is plentiful. There are animals here to befriend, beautiful beaches, a temperate climate. The casket that is Voyager provides for any of my other needs. It is the perfect living hell that I don't deserve.

I have but one final request. If someone finds this, please, recover the remains of my crew. I buried them in the ground under the forward section of the ship. There are grave markers for each one, twenty-seven total. Return them to rest among the stars where they belong. Kindly leave the one marked "Chakotay." He is separate from the others, in the forest where he would have wanted to be. As for me, the sea will be my graveyard.

=/\=

As Kathryn read the last line again to herself, she was made aware of a presence behind her. The warm breeze blew her hair and she regarded the rocky torrent of seas below. She looked back at Q.

Q frowned slightly and sighed, then offered her his hand. "Let's go."

Back for what she felt must have been the fifteenth time, Kathryn sat again in a chair. Q handed her the mug of coffee which was, inexplicably, still steaming. She cradled it, but didn't feel much like drinking.

"I don't understand that one," she said eventually.

"How's that?" Q asked.

"I never actually considered going with Chakotay's idea. I knew that an alliance with the Borg against 8472 would work. It didn't feel right to turn tail and run or to settle down on another planet. I wasn't going to give up on getting home."

"Ah, yes. But, what about regret?"

"Regret?"

"Do you regret anything about that time in your life?"

Kathryn paused for a moment. "We were never really the same after that," she admitted. "We pretended to be, but I'd be lying if I said we didn't sacrifice some of the trust we had built. But then, you knew that already."

"The Vori scenerio, yes." He tilted his head. "Are the pieces starting to fit together yet, Kathryn?"

She sighed. "I think they might be. How much more of this Q?"

"That depends. Anything else on your mind?"

"You seem only interested in showing me the things that have dealt with the results of more personal interactions."

He nodded.

"There are so many things that haunt me Q. More than just at this intimate level you seem to be stressing."

"Care to list them for me?" he asked.

She was a bit surprised by his counsellor-like aura. It was almost comforting.

"I'm not sure where to begin."

"We have two hours until morning. Begin wherever you like. But please, let's limit this to the recent past, say Delta Quadrant years? I don't feel like psychoanalyzing your questionable interpretation of the Dying Swan at eight-years old."

"I was six."

"Poh-tae-toe, Poh-tah-toe."

Janeway sighed and, like a good book, began at the beginning.

"I destroyed the Caretaker's array and got us stranded."

Q shook his head. "Honestly, you're still hung up on that?"

"Q. It's been my life's work to get everyone home after the repercussions of that decision. I've lost people. Relationships have been severed. It's the reason for all of this struggle."

"I refer to Chuckles. You've done more good in the Delta Quadrant than you could have ever done in seven years in the boring ol' Alpha Quadrant. You've made many discoveries. Your mission, as defined by Starfleet principles, is a success."

"Seven years so far, but how much longer Q? By my estimations, it's twenty more at least."

Q shrugged. "Don't marry that number."

She furrowed her brow at him.

"Move on," he told her with a flippant wave.

"I should have been more aware of what was happening to Kes. I was distracted by the Borg and 8472. I should have helped her in some way."

"Her natural course of evolution was just a bit beyond your ability to control," Q said sarcastically. "Though I'll give you points for ambition. Besides, you'll want her just the way she is before too long."

Kathryn gave him a curious glance as he motioned again for her to move along.

"I killed Tuvix."

"Oh, for crap's sake." Q made a wide, rolling gesture with his head. "Your precious 'beam-machines' are soooo much more trouble than they are worth. The monstrosity formerly known as Tuvix was never meant to be one person, and you know it. Besides, he would have died a month later anyway. His molecules were destabilizing, or some such nonsense."

Kathryn continued. "I forced B'Elanna to be cured by that Cardassian doctor, Crell Moset. Using information gained by torturing innocent people went against everything she believed in. Everything I believed in."

"She would have died. The ends justified the means; at least his research did some good. And, he was a hologram." Q began picking at the cuticles on his thumb in boredom.

Kathryn sighed.

"I shouldn't have authorized erasing the doctor's memories of Ensign Jetal's death."

"Small poh-tah-toes. Again, a hologram. Come to think of it, those transporters aren't the only piece of your technology that isn't worth the trouble."

Kathryn ignored his remark and continued. She was, it seemed, on a roll. "I aided the Vaadwaur in their fight against the Turei."

Q made a 'tsk tsk' sound and waved a finger at her. "You should feel bad about that. Not the smartest move." Then, he considered his words and spoke grimly. "Don't be surprised if that one comes back to bite you."

Kathryn looked up at him with confusion and concern.

"Any more?" he asked, returning attention to manicuring his thumbnail.

"When we liberated the drones from Unimatrix Zero."

Q stopped fidgeting with himself and looked up at her. "Oooh, we're getting more serious about this now are we? Unimatrix Zero was an interesting one. You were technically responsible for the deaths of a few tens-of-thousands. I would argue again however, that the ends justified the means. The Borg are such a scourge."

Kathryn sighed and massaged her forehead. She suddenly felt like she was in a ping pong match trading shots with a much better opponent. But, receiving insight into all of these things that had pained her for so long was cathartic in a strange way.

"I almost killed Crewman Lessing," she said, hanging her head in shame.

Q chuckled morbidly. "Went just a tad off the deep end with Mr. Ransom, didn't we?"

"He defied everything I ever believed about Starfleet," she said rising from her seat and beginning to pace around the room. "He… he threw all of the principles, all of the spirit of exploration and peaceful discovery, right out the airlock. He was a disgrace to the uniform."

"He scared you," Q stated bluntly. "Because in a different set of circumstances, you might have done the same thing."

Kathryn's head popped up. "No. Never. I would never have sacrificed innocent lifeforms to get us home."

"But, part of you wishes that you had his gall—his truly unwavering devotion to getting his crew home at any cost."

Kathryn shook her head. "No. You've gotten me to admit to a lot of things tonight Q. But not that."

"Okay, what about the devotion of his first officer and crew? Even after Ransom decided to right his wrongs, his XO took up the charge. Ever worry that you've had the same hypnotizing effect on your people? You're a strong leader, Kathryn. Strong leaders imprint their ideals and their methods on those they command. How far would they go for you? Don't tell me that the thought of it doesn't scare you a little bit."

"Chakotay didn't follow me." As she said the words, a new realization sunk in. "He questioned me, and he stopped me. But, not before I lost something in the process," she admitted. "I lost a piece of myself. And I lost…"

"His respect," Q finished. "How is that patch you sewed over the hole in your relationship holding up?"

Kathryn chose to disregard his prying accusation and, like a hot pan, dropped Equinox from the discussion to move on to less controversial regrets.

"I almost trusted Kashyk."

At this, Q let out a loud snort. "Thankfully you got your lady-bits in order in time to see through that creep. Honestly, Kathy, what did you see in him?"

She shrugged. "He was… fascinating."

"Why? Because he liked music and wore gloves?" Q made a nod and a very loud Mahler Five accosted her. "Is this sexy somehow?" Q shouted over the blaring of trumpets and pounding of drums.

She put her hands over her ears and the music stopped.

"You hurt him with that one, by the way," Q informed her. "But tit-for-tat with that Riley woman, I suppose."

She ignored his comment. "I put Tom Paris in solitary confinement."

Q scratched his head. "That was a bit cruel even for you. Still, I think he had it coming, disobeying you and all. Besides, he wrote a beautiful letter home and you set a nice example for traitors. He's got his pip back. He's over it." Q tilted his head to the side. "It seems we've crossed the very fine line from explicit decisions into regrets, Kathy. But, continue if you wish."

Kathryn paused to think. A flashing thought blinked before her mind's eye, and it was so vivid she supposed that Q had placed it there for her to grab at. He raised an eyebrow, and she knew he knew what she was thinking.

"Regrets…." she whispered.

Q didn't move.

Kathryn licked her lips and prepared to give her confession a voice.

"I wanted to kiss him. On New Earth."

Q's face erupted in a Cheshire cat-like grin.

"I didn't. I wouldn't have. Mark," she explained.

"But, if Voyager hadn't come back for you?"

"Probably, eventually."

"Probably?" Q asked incredulously.

"Okay, definitely," she admitted. Reminiscing on that possibility gave her pause. "The fact that Chakotay and I were the only two of fifteen away team members to be infected with that virus wasn't under my control. Neither was the decision for Voyager to come back for us. And, I'm glad that they did. But…"

"You want to know what would have happened if you had acted on your desires."

She nodded.

"I thought you'd never ask."

And Q snapped his fingers.