After her minor victory, Kathryn had sat in the dark, thinking mournfully, until Tuvok appeared, two hours later.
Upon Kathryn's explaination, Tuvok had swiftly picked Gretchen up and placed her on his low embroidered couch, promising to look after her until she woke up. The young woman had not stirred at all, but she did look slightly more comfortable.
The Doctor estimated that it would be the rest of the day before the salve and the nasty herbal interaction would be fully out of Gretchen's system. But the worst was over, and Kathryn felt an intense feeling of safety at leaving her with Tuvok.
Still, she did not like leaving, and for once it was not only her job as Captain that made her do so.
There's only so much I can do to help her heal now, from her wounds, so many of which I caused.
There's only so much I can do.
And it's killing me.
Kathryn sighed, feeling a wave of exhaustion as the doors closed behind her.
I know...how close a battle with despair can be.
It was morning, and time for her bridge shift. She had not slept at all.
Not for the first time.
She would drink coffee and try to be energized by Voyager, by everyone's joy today as they received their letters.
How is it I'm not even excited? She thought as she passed some crew members, nodding and smiling as them.
This is going to be a good day. She forced the thought, pushing herself as always.
She could not fully shake the feeling it would not be enough.
By 11:00am Voyager was almost receiving responses from Starfleet. Captain Janeway, Chakotay, Tom, and Harry were staring at the array's memory bank, blinking and taunting them on the screen in her Briefing Room.
It was taking an unreasonable time for the letters to download.
"What's holding it up B'Elanna?" asked Chakotay through his combadge to Engineering.
"This thing is old, and damaged, and stupid," answered B'Elanna heatedly.
"We want to hear from our families," her First Officer pushed jokingly.
"Too Damn Bad, Chakotay," hissed B'Elanna, "You'll just have to wait."
Chakotay looked startled and then frowned deeply as the com channel clicked off abruptly.
"B'Elanna would probably be faster at this if it weren't for her eyes," he said to Kathryn sadly, "I can't believe I forgot."
"I imagine it'll take awhile for the men to get used to her blindness," said Kathryn sympathetically, "I was there when it happened, and even I hate accepting it."
"B'Elanna isn't accepting it," said Tom, turning to the Captain, "She wants the Doctor to put in implants."
"Not on my watch," said Janeway in dismay, holding his gaze forcefully, "That would mean giving up the chance of her healing. Her natural eyes would be damaged further, if not completely removed."
"Besides," she continued as Tom frowned unhappily, uncharacteristically looking down, "The Doctor is not an expert in that kind of surgery."
"She'll just have to be patient," Kathryn added in a gentler voice, "At least until the Doctor is sure they won't heal on their own."
"It's been 6 months since the attack," said Tom quietly, in a depressed tone, "If they were going to heal well…..I hate to say it but…..they probably would've."
"At least she'd be able to do her job better," said Tom, "That's all she cares about these days," he added dejectedly, "That's all she's ever cared about."
He sighed, turning back to the screen, "No offense Captain, but I don't think you have the right to stop her."
Janeway sighed too, very deeply, "We're in Klingon territory, Tom, we can find a specialist. I won't give up without a second opinion at least."
"That's fair," said Tom, quirking his lip.
"Can't Seven speed up the transfer?" commented Chakotay, having watched the exchange sympathetically.
"Seven's sick," answered Harry.
"What?" said Kathryn, "I didn't see that on the duty logs."
"She's supposed to be off anyway," said Harry, "She wasn't going to take vacation, but I ran into her on her way to the Cargo Bay, and she was complaining that the Doctor is making her regenerate. He thinks her nanobots have been overworked lately. She had a fever, which never happens."
"Well," said Kathryn frowning, "I suppose after nine months of overtime that isn't too surprising. We'll keep an eye on her. Not even Borg technology is perfect."
"Thank goodness," said Tom, sounding more like his normal self.
"So how are we going to get the letters?" interjected Harry after a moment.
Just then they began to download.
Captain Janeway relaxed into her chair at the Briefing Table as the data began to filter onto their computers. A few of the exchanges were directly to the Captain, but most of them could be shared with the crew. Chakotay, Harry, and Tom also began to eagerly devour the news from Starfleet.
Personal exchanges would be downloaded last, and delivered by Neelix to individual crew members. She would let her crew write freely back and forth to the Alpha Quadrant until leaving the array 6 days from now.
The most contact we've had with home, ever.
She could not stop herself from smiling, as she opened a greeting from Admiral Patterson, an Academy mentor she had known since childhood.
He had just returned from a sensitive years long mission to Cardassian territory. Due to the lack of communication, until a month ago, he had still believed her dead.
Not yet, old friend, thought Kathryn, trying to stop herself from crying in the middle of the Briefing Room. The joy in his letter was overwhelming.
Not yet.
She smiled again, even wider.
Sometimes I wouldn't trade my life for anything.
Suddenly her skull itched, and she had the instant, visceral memory of dirty long hair lying over her face, blocking her vision.
She remembered Gretchen's grimaced face, and muscle shakes from just this morning.
And worse, the silent, still faces she had seen lying flat. Lying flat just before they were sent to float in space. Forever.
Left behind like garbage. Alone in the floating void.
How dare you be happy, Kathryn?
How dare you be happy? Even for an instant?
She struggled to breath, as the guilt began to choke her.
You promised, didn't you?, came her inner morals, descending down and overtaking her.
You promised you'd take care of yourself.
Like you didn't do before.
Like you took out on your own child.
Kathryn blinked, clenching the arm of her chair tightly, coming out of the spell.
"Kathryn," came a gentle voice from her right. Chakotay was beginning to notice something was wrong.
"I think, I think I'm tired too," said Kathryn suddenly, standing, "It's been a long nine months," she said evenly, "I think I'll take a nap this afternoon. You have the ship, Commander."
Chakotay blinked at her, in surprise and distress. They all did.
She tried to give the men reassuring smiles as she left.
She was not going to lock herself in her room for weeks on end as she had in the Void.
Or as she had when she was 24, after her father had died.
I promised. Kathryn reminded herself.
She sighed as she entered her Quarters. She took off her uniform, crawling into bed in her nightgown, feeling dead.
Her mind whirled unpleasantly, and she tried to stop the self-hatred.
It would not stop, but finally she lapsed into unconsciousness.
"Captain" came a sudden voice from her combadge.
Damn it, came Kathryn's thoughts, as she was jolted awake, even as relief came in the same moment.
Her dreams had not been pleasant.
"Report" said Janeway, clicking the combadge on her nightstand.
"Captain," came Harry Kim's voice, "We've downloaded all the personal letters. But there's something else."
"What, Harry?"
"Orders from Starfleet."