Chapter 2 Adjusting

"Captain on the bridge."

Ayala announced as she entered, closely flanked by Tuvok and Chakotay. All crewmen stood proudly at attention by their stations. Over a month had passed since her tragic transporter accident. Emotions had been running high since they'd nearly lost her.

Tears came to Harry's eyes. He couldn't help it. While he had faith in Chakotay and Tuvok's leadership, Captain Janeway would always hold a special place in his heart. Now that she was recovering, he was fully confident they could continue their journey home, and tackle whatever the Delta Quadrant had to throw at them.

Yet as he watched her, Captain Janeway seemed different.

While Harry was aware that the captain wasn't a tall woman, he'd never truly noticed her diminutive stature. Somehow her commanding presence had more than compensated for that. Yet today, she seemed tiny compared to her first officer. Her stance had altered as well, her shoulders were slightly hunched, and she was moving slower, more tentatively. Her uniform hung on her, and fine lines rimmed her eyes.

She was still in recovery, Harry assured himself. It would take time, that's all. She'd been through a lot. He was being impatient.

Captain Janeway paused before each crew member, acknowledging him with a firm nod and a short greeting. That was so like her – the personal touch. Unlike other captains, the crew members were practically family to her. Yet when she paused before Harry, he noticed that her gaze wasn't as focused and there was a small monitor attached to her right temple. The doctor had developed it to help the damaged areas of her brain communicate more effectively.

"Keep up the good work, Ensign Kim."

His brow furrowed. He was confused by her formality. And had Tuvok just whispered instructions to her? Did she not remember his name?

Then Harry caught Commander Chakotay placing a hand on her arm, gently guiding her towards Paris' station.

He took a deep breath, trying to quell the panic rising within him. Again, he assured himself that the Captain had been through a lot and it would take time for her to fully recover. She hadn't returned to the bridge to resume her duties. Currently, she was on indefinite medical leave. He understood that today's appearance was purely symbolic to boost morale.

Certainly, she'd be back to herself within a few weeks.

Given their technological capabilities, and Captain Janeway's tenacity and intense drive, he was positive that this would be the case.

XXXX

"Do any of those images seem familiar to you?" Tuvok asked.

Kathryn was sitting nearby on the couch, examining a PADD. She placed it beside her. "No."

She could only look at the display for a few minutes before her temples started throbbing. As much as she longed for something familiar to latch onto, she didn't recognize any of those places or people. Not even those that Tuvok had identified as her parents.

"The integrator device is helping with your comprehension. You're starting to remember more."

Even though the small monitor irritated her skin, she could sense a difference in her recall. Names and concepts were starting to come faster to her. Stored knowledge was returning, though at a snail's pace. But each day, a little more came to light.

The Doctor had encouraged her to try a variety of tasks with the justification that just the act of attempting one might trigger memories or at the very least stimulate the neuron pathways in her brain. While her basic processing and understanding of language had been restored, she was decidedly lacking in other areas. She had no memory of her life experiences or loved ones. Fortunately, her emotional processing and maturity was sharp. Some of her educational knowledge was becoming more accessible yet due to the fact that her left-brain processing was badly damaged, she struggled with mathematical concepts.

"You should try pursuing the Doctor's recommendation." Tuvok explained, as if she'd forgotten. And frankly, given the state of her mind, it was a reasonable assumption on his part.

A feeling of dread washed over her.

"Some memories might be triggered by engaging in those activities. The analogy of riding a bike is highly applicable. Let me arrange for you to work at different stations."

She sensed he would be disappointed if she said no, so she nodded, keeping her thoughts to herself.

Tuvok had informed her that they'd been friends for many years. She had to take that at face value. Although he'd been kind to her, nothing within her affirmed this relationship. No warm feelings or fond memories came to mind. Yet, she trusted him.

Two days ago on the bridge, all those panels and instruments had overwhelmed her. She had no idea what they were or how to interpret them. And the expectations in those officers' faces? How was she going to live up to that? She felt like an imposter.

Without Tuvok and Chakotay's help, she wouldn't have even remembered the crews' names. She'd been terrified that they might expect her to act in an official capacity. She'd never felt so lost. It was as if she'd walked in on someone else's life.

"Listening to your personal logs could be useful. I'd be happy to expand on any events should you need clarification. I could also lead you in guided meditation to assist you with managing your headaches. I think that would be helpful."

"Thank you, Tuvok. I appreciate your help. You've been very thoughtful. I'm afraid I'm not feeling well. Can we continue this later?"

"Certainly. Rest is also an integral part of recovery. I'll set up some tasks for you." He rose. "I'll see myself out."

She sank back against the couch as the door closed. She wasn't proud that she just lied to him. While she was fully aware that his intentions were honorable, she was tired of talking.

Yesterday in the Mess Hall, several crewmen had shared treasured tales of their adventures in the Delta Quadrant. Apparently, she was the woman who wouldn't let the Kazon intimidate her. Who had single-handedly saved the crew from a highly infectious macrovirus. Who had stared down a terrifying creepy clown. Who had faced the Borg and even infiltrated one of their ships.

She was the surrogate mother of this extended family of over 150 people, the beloved captain who never left a crewman behind and never expected anyone to do a job that she wouldn't willingly do herself. The woman who had a zest for interacting with new species and investigating stellar phenomena.

While some of their stories might have triggered vague recollections, it felt more like a movie about someone else.

All those eager eyes staring at her.

All those bright beaming faces.

All those expectations.

All that hope.

It had been all she could do to remain standing with a pleasant façade plastered on her face, her heart racing in her chest as she listened to story after story.

Her personal logs were the worst. It was her voice. But it wasn't her. That woman sounded fearless and confident, which was the polar opposite of how she felt. She couldn't finish listening to a single entry.

But maybe the Doctor was right. Hopefully, with time, her memory would improve, and she would regain most of her skills. And then this frustrating state would become a distant memory.

XXXX

"Captain, you are late," Seven said, standing in the astrometric lab before a three-dimensional display of several planets and stars. She felt guilty, noticing that Janeway cringed in response to her comment. Her intention hadn't been to scold, she was more concerned by her mentor's uncharacteristic behavior.

It disturbed Seven to see the older woman behaving so oddly. She didn't understand why her recovery was progressing so slowly. The captain had undergone two reintegration procedures. The Doctor's mobile integrator was also helping. Since over a month had passed, certainly, all this advanced technology should've resolved these issues.

"What are we doing, Seven?"

The woman standing before her sounded like the captain. But even so, her tone was weaker, more tentative. While she'd always been a direct person, today she was avoiding eye contact with Seven.

The former Borg had been offended by Tuvok's suggestion that they perform a simple planetary scan. That was a task for a junior ensign, not for the Captain. It seemed insulting. Yet, the Vulcan had insisted so she'd start with that task and then planned to escalate to more interesting ones.

"We'll be scanning those planets for dilithium." She gestured to the display and then a control panel. "Why don't you input the parameters?" She turned to check on some other calculations.

When Seven returned a few minutes later, rather than having completed the task, the Captain was still staring at the panel.

"Captain?"

"How do I start?"

Tuvok said she might require guidance. She hadn't taken him seriously. She joined Janeway by the panel.

"Simply input the parameters here." She gestured to the keypad.

"And what are they?"

Seven broke the task down into simple steps, talking Janeway methodically through each of them. She was disappointed that such a straightforward job took over twenty minutes to accomplish.

The Captain was troubled by this as well. She bit her lip and kept her eyes lowered. Fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.

Seven rapidly concluded that the other tasks she'd planned on accomplishing with the older woman were currently beyond her reach. This disturbed her. She wanted to help Captain Janeway. After all she'd done for her, she wanted to return her generosity.

The former Borg hadn't realized how much she depended upon the Captain. Due to Janeway's stubbornness, she'd managed to forge a strong relationship with Seven. Seven never would've advanced as far as she had in accepting her humanity without the Captain's strong convictions and faith in her. Others would never have put up with her inadequacies for as long as Janeway had.

How could she help?

"Captain, perhaps I can fine tune my nanoprobes to repair damaged areas in your brain. If the Doctor could perform some deeper resonance scans, that would give me some idea of what direction to take. Adjusting the resonance frequency might make your cells more compatible. We could program them to increase the level of neuron transmitters."

What was she saying?

These were general thoughts based on nothing, empty platitudes at best. This was illogical. There was no guarantee that any of these actions might be the least bit helpful. Why did she feel compelled to share these inefficient suggestions?

Rather than demonstrating enthusiasm or rightly pointing out their deficiencies, Janeway didn't respond.

Longing to connect with her mentor, Seven suggested. "Perhaps we could try a game of Velocity some other time?"

XXXXX

(three weeks later)

Kathryn was playing with her food as she shared a table in the mess hall with Chakotay. At least once a day they had meals together. Lunch was another one of Neelix's more colorful creations. If only it tasted better and didn't have such a rubbery texture. Her appetite had been poor, and these unappealing selections didn't help.

"I tried engineering a few days ago. What a joke. Although I'm finally remembering some terminology, my brain rejects any attempt to think mathematically, to actually connect those concepts. B'Elanna was so aggravated that she was ready to push me out the air lock."

"That must've been frustrating for both of you."

"And my game of Velocity with Seven? What a disaster! My reflexes are pathetic. And my balance and coordination are terrible." Running about had also triggered a debilitating migraine that left her incapacitated for the rest of the day. "Today I tried reviewing status reports." She rolled her eyes, indicating her displeasure.

Chakotay laughed. "Why in the world would you want to do that?"

"You remember, the Doctor said that going through the motions might restore my memories. After five minutes, my vision got blurry, and I had another massive headache."

He gently chided her. "You're not supposed to be doing that. You're on medical leave. I know you prefer to keep busy but don't overwhelm your system. You've been through a lot."

"What else am I supposed to do?"

She was tired of feeling useless. Here she was on a high-tech starship where every person had a critical job. Everyone except her. She felt ashamed that she could no longer pull her weight.

"Has anyone complained?"

From the urgency in his voice, she sensed that if she named names, he would hunt those individuals down and confront them.

"No." After a moment's hesitation, she added. "They don't seem to know how to interact with me."

People were very kind. But conversations felt distant and awkward.

"Why does everyone insist upon calling me captain? Aren't you the Captain now?"

"Only the acting captain. It's your title. It's who you are. It's a show of respect for you and your authority."

"Why are you the only person who calls me by my given name?" That had been bothering her.

He thought for a moment. "It's how you chose to run the ship. You believe Starfleet regulations hold us together and keep us safe. It's been working so far. In accordance, the crew always refer to you as Captain. You and I are the highest-ranking officers. We work closely together so you allow me to use your given name under appropriate circumstances."

"But…I'm not the captain anymore." She was mortified to admit. "I don't want to be the captain."

She hated those hopeful looks from the crew. Like she was going to morph into some legendary figure who would magically solve their problems. She had no idea how anything fit together. It was all so overwhelming.

"You don't have to. I'll cover for you as long as needed. That's not a problem."

"But…" Looking into those soft brown eyes, she felt she could trust him. "It's humiliating. Everyone thinks I know how to do things that I don't remember. Or I just can't do anymore." Her face grew warm. It was a shameful admission. But she felt safe with Chakotay. Safer with him than with anyone else.

"The senior staff are fully aware of your limitations given your accident. This could've happened to anyone. The details will eventually filter down to the lower levels.

"May I make some suggestions?"

"Please."

She was liking him more and more. She'd felt drawn to him the moment she saw him in sick bay.

"Perhaps putting your uniform aside and wearing civilian clothing would convey that you're not currently acting as the captain. That you're not able to participate in that capacity - at this time. It would be a signal that crew members could easily interpret. Unless that would make you uncomfortable."

She considered it then nodded. "I like that."

She sensed that her former self had taken great pride in being the captain. But she was no longer that larger than life person. She might never be. Right now, she felt like an imposter wearing those pips. Or even wearing the Starfleet uniform at all.

"Won't that upset the crew?"

"Possibly. But what's more important is focusing on you and your recovery. This might be a critical step towards helping you feel more comfortable."

"But they'll still call me Captain."

"Correct."

"I want them to call me something else."

Chakotay raised an eyebrow.

She put her hand to her chin as she thought. Kathryn was her given name. Yet she didn't feel overly close to that nomenclature either. Kathryn was the woman attached to that confident voice and all those exploits. She didn't feel like she was that person either. She needed something new. Something different. But not too different.

"Kate." She said decisively. "Tell them to call me Kate."

"Why? You're the same person. You're still Kathryn."

She didn't want to belabor the point. More firmly, she asked, "Can you instruct the crew to call me Kate?"

Rather than arguing, he reluctantly agreed. "Okay. I'll do that. Let's get back to ideas for helping you adjust. Instead of focusing on everything you can't do, why don't you consider what interests you and what you might be capable of doing?"

That sounded like a refreshing approach. Much better than banging her head against the wall as she'd been doing for the past weeks, far too busy trying to become who she had formerly been.

She took a breath. "It's a good plan. I don't know what to try."

He reached for her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. He did that a lot. She didn't mind.

"Even though this is, presumably, a temporary situation, we need to find a way for you to feel you're contributing."

She liked the sound of that.

"Just try something that's appealing to you. Anything. See how it goes. Don't worry about being useful."

She took another bite of the rubbery green tubes of her lunch and grimaced. Then she said, "I want food that tastes better."

She rose. Striding over to the cooking area, she shouted. "Neelix, I want to work in the kitchen."

Chakotay could barely contain his laughter, knowing this would be a disaster. But at least she was stepping out and exploring her options.