The two hours returning to Keltin passed with barely a word said by anyone, save for the necessary comments regarding ship's functions. No one even dared make eye contact with the commanding officer; her eyes stared directly ahead into the viewscreen with the blankest of expressions. She sat stiffly in the command chair in a futile attempt to ignore the absence of her first officer.
Had her staff asked her a question, there would have been no response. Janeway had cloistered herself away inside her own mind, reliving every speech she had ever heard about the Prime Directive, as well as those about not getting too close to a crew since, "Good judgement could go right out the window if you're not careful." This from Admiral Paris, in the years before Janeway's command, before even her graduation from the Academy. She could practically hear the disappointment in his words, see him shaking his head as he admonished her actions.
As they came near Keltin, Janeway said, with eyes straight ahead, "Get in close enough to beam them out, then get us the hell out of here. Is that clear Mister Paris?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Mister Kim?" she barked.
"Captain?"
"I want those transporters ready to beam them out on my mark."
"Yes, Ma'am." Apparently it was crunch time.
Smoothly Paris guided them near the planet, zeroing in on the prison area, and Kim announced his findings of two prisoners with human and half-human life signs.
"Do it."
Kim nearly shouted, "Locking on...Transporting...Transport successful, Captain." He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that there was no shield blocking the transporters, but realizing that something, anything, could have gone wrong.
"Mister Par-"
She barely got the word out before he interrupted with, "Elvis has left the building!" He zoomed away from the planet, just as Tuvok was reporting a hail from Keltin.
"Apparently we have been discovered, Captain. The hail appears to be from a member of the High Council." Tuvok's face remained impassive. Only a slight twitch of his cheek revealed that things were not as calm as they seemed beneath his impenetrable exterior.
Janeway stood. "I don't want to hear it, Tuvok. Let them hail us all they want. We are not, under any circumstances, returning Chakotay and B'Elanna." With this she squared her shoulders, thrust her chin out a little further. "They may have warp capabilities, but you and I both know none of their ships is a match for Voyager in either speed or weaponry. I don't care to argue with them any more, so I suggest you ignore the hails, and let them wonder what changed my mind. I sure as hell have no idea what did it myself."
Captain Janeway then proceeded to the turbolift, and in passing told Tuvok, "You have the bridge, Lieutenant Commander." She didn't even remember walking to the transporter room. The only things she remembered from that fateful afternoon were the looks on the faces of the prison-garbed B'Elanna and Chakotay as she stepped in to greet them. Disbelief, gratitude, utter confusion. All of which she had no intention of dealing with until she felt steady enough to last an entire conversation.
"Welcome back, both of you." Her stance faltered momentarily as her breath caught in her throat when Chakotay's eyes met hers. She opened her mouth to say something else, and then the thought was gone, vanished into thin air, and she was left standing in front of her two senior staff members and an ensign from ops with a dropped jaw and vacant look in her eyes. She had no explanation for them, and couldn't very well tell them that she decided she simply couldn't bear to relive the loss of two of those dearest to her a second time.
"I...um...We decided to come back for you. We...losing two of my best officers is not something I was willing to sacrifice to the Prime Directive." Her gaze fell to the floor for a moment, then pulled itself up to face the open stares from Chakotay and B'Elanna. Chakotay looked blankly at her, unsure whether to shake her for coming back or kiss her for saving his soul. B'Elanna, well, she looked like she had been granted the greatest gift in the history of the universe. In truth, she had: a second chance at life, after believing all was lost, she had somehow been given another shot to make her life beautiful.
Moments passed, and the Captain turned on her heel and bolted from the transporter room.
"What the hell just happened?" Chakotay murmured to himself.
Ensign Kelly spoke up. "Two hours ago, Captain Janeway ordered a turn about and told us we were going back for you. No explanation, no discussion. I was just messaged, from someone..." His voice trailed off momentarily. "I heard that nobody said a word on the bridge for the last two hours. Not even Tuvok." Rubbing his forehead, he finished, "I guess she decided it would be for the good of the crew to retrieve you, and I have to say, I think she was right."
Suddenly there was a noise outside the room, and with a flourish, Tom Paris burst in, flanked by no less than ten beaming crew members. "Welcome home, guys." In seconds B'Elanna was in his arms, kissing his face, wrapping herself about his body, pulling him close as possible.
The merry band poured in, surrounding them, slapping Chakotay on the back and embracing him. Welcoming him home. He looked at the faces of his extended family, smiling, all the while wishing he was being enveloped by a set of warm blue eyes and slim arms belonging to none other than his captain. A captain who could barely meet his gaze when she came to tell him she couldn't leave him behind.
At that moment, Chakotay was quite sure that while they were back on the ship safe and sound, the consequences of the rescue were far from over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As it turns out, Chakotay was right. Kathryn spent her spare time torturing herself constantly for following her heart. She berated herself for allowing things to get out of hand. How could she have let this happen? All those years of command training, obliterated by one decision. She was sure she could hear the disapproval in the voice of every crew member who addressed her, especially Tuvok. The one person she knew who would always see her error as a blot on her character, personally and professionally. Allowing emotional response to answer a question of protocol was something he would never forgive, she was convinced.
Had Kathryn thought to discuss this matter with the Vulcan, she would have discovered he held a very different opinion regarding her decision. After weighing the pros and cons of the choice after the return to Keltin, he deduced, logically, that the correct course of action had been followed. If they left Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Torres behind, the status of the ship would suffer in countless ways. Morale would sink to new lows. Ship's systems would undoubtedly suffer as a result of the aforementioned drop in morale as well as the absence of the brilliant engineering genius of Torres and the well-utilized tactical mind of Chakotay. While Tuvok remained impassive, he recognized the human emotional state for what it was and understood his Captain's need for companionship. Chakotay was by far the most suitable partner for her in every way, and while he did not always agree with the commander, they did have one thing in common. Both would give their lives for Kathryn Janeway, and for this reason, Tuvok approved of the previously thriving relationship of his senior officers.
Now, with Keltin behind them, Tuvok found much to regret in the course of events. Instead of bringing the pair closer together, Kathryn forced herself apart from everyone, including himself. Subtly he tried to infiltrate Janeway's re-constructed wall of isolation, but to no avail. He only saw her recede further and further into solitude.
Numerous conversations with B'Elanna Torres made it clear to him that the links which bonded the Captain to her crew were slowly, irretrievably being severed by Kathryn herself. Torres was frantic to regain her former confidante. The woman who had so long been there to comfort and understand had vanished without a trace. Coldness leaked from every pore, and B'Elanna suffered torments each time she even glanced at her former friend and mentor. Tuvok realized Torres' magnitude of distress when B'Elanna took it upon herself to go to Tuvok, of all people, for advice. She was desperate for some idea to find a way around Kathryn's command stance, pleading with him to give her insight into what the Captain was going through. Unfortunately for both of them, Tuvok had no advice for the tortured young woman.
More than a week passed and a celebration was held on the holodeck, in name simply the monthly party, in truth to rejoice in the presence of their formerly lost crew. The Captain did not attend. During the days before and after the party, Chakotay saw less of Kathryn than he did during his weeklong stay on Keltin. On duty shifts she retreated to the ready room, meals she ate alone, and evenings were spent ferreted away in her quarters. He tried numerous times to catch her in the corridors or on her way out of the ready room, but he was consistently met with empty eyes and the same phrases: "I'm sorry Commander, but we'll have to make it another time, I'm very busy. Perhaps we can discuss it in tomorrow's briefing." And she'd be off before he had a chance to tell her for the dozenth time that his query was nothing he'd like to discuss in tomorrow's briefing. It was something he wanted to discuss *now,* not in fifteen minutes, and especially not fifteen years. To Chakotay it seemed that it might take fifteen years to pull Kathryn out of the prison she had walled herself into this time.
Three weeks went by, and still Kathryn avoided discussion with anyone and everyone about her abrupt change of plans. After shift end, she made a typically hasty retreat to her quarters, and Chakotay decided to follow her there and have it out with her. At 1800 hours he appeared at her door and rang the chime.
No answer.
He tried again. Same response.
He touched his commbadge. "Chakotay to the Captain."
"Janeway here," came the weary reply.
He placed his hand on the door, as if he could make her understand his urgency. "Kathryn, I'm outside. Please let me in."
A hollow sigh came over the intercom, followed by, "Commander, I am very busy at the moment, and I really would rather dis--"
"Kathryn Janeway, you let me in there right now or I am going to override your lock and come in anyway. You have ten seconds." He knew he was taking a chance with this approach, but apparently nothing else was going to work. "One. Two. Three. Four." He was getting a little nervous. "Five... Six."
Suddenly the door swished open revealing a very angry captain. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, Mister? If I say I am busy I am not kidding. I--" He walked in the door, pushing past her gently. "Excuse me, I didn't invite you in here, so please leave now." Her brow was furrowed and her posture straight as an arrow, armored in a pair of deep blue leggings and a matching tunic. Briefly Chakotay regretted the absence of her coral nightgown.
He was in the door finally, and there was no way he was going to back down at this point in the game. He turned and confronted her head on. "Kathryn, we have to talk about this right now. I've let it go on for too long as it is and I can't stand your silence any longer. You tell me what's going on and maybe I'll consider leaving. But not before you fill me in on what exactly it is that I or the rest of the crew have done to you to make you shut yourself away like this." He crossed his arms in front of him in a deliberate imitation of her "I'm not moving" stance.
Her teeth ground together inside her mouth. Eyes closed, nostrils flared. He could see there was something huge brewing beneath the surface, and he was going to bring it out of her even if she killed him in the process. Neither one of them made a move for almost an entire minute, and for Chakotay, it was one of the longest minutes of his life.
She gave in first; lucky for him she hadn't slept in three days. Her eyes slowly opened and she gave him a glimpse into the pain she was experiencing. "I rejected the Prime Directive to retrieve you both. I allowed my personal feelings to intervene in a situation which clearly demanded that we leave you on that planet, and I let my emotions steer my decision." She hesitated, and continued with a resigned look. Hooded eyes reflected nothing but disappointment in herself, and Chakotay couldn't bear the sight of such desperate sorrow in her face. "A Starfleet Captain does not allow herself to be ruled by emotion, and when I turned back to Keltin I broke the most important rule I have ever learned from Starfleet." Turning away from him was difficult, but she could hardly stand to face him after her confession. "Now the crew will expect us to ignore the Prime Directive in every case. Once a captain breaks a rule it is damned near impossible to regain respect for the rule, and for the captain." She shook her head. "I let them down. I let myself down. I let Starfleet down. I thought that if I just stayed awa-" She stopped, unwilling to go on any further.
She wasn't ready to say *I thought that if I just stayed away from you I wouldn't love you, and we would be able to have a command relationship without the complications of intimacy.* Now she was sure she'd never be ready, and the only way to rebuild her protective wall was to isolate herself. To become like the captains she'd hated in her early Starfleet years. Stand-offish types with no connection to the crew. Men and women who saw themselves as above those they served with. None of those captains would play pool in Sandrine's, let alone dress in a bathing suit and sarong while drinking cocktails with her senior staff and their underlings.
"Chakotay, I really, really am not ready to have it out with you. I've lost--" She cut herself off. Already she had revealed more to him in two minutes than she expected him to get out of her in an entire month. "I'm having trouble--"
He stepped toward her, hand outstretched. "Kathryn, if you're having trouble with this, then let me help you--"
"Don't you see, Chakotay?" Her eyes accused him. "It's because of you that I'm in trouble. You, with your tattoo, your mouth, your eyes, your voice..." The memory of his kiss flooded her veins, and she flushed. She looked down at her feet. "You're the trouble, and I can't make you go away. I can only make myself go away, and that is what I intend to do."
"What?" He looked incredulously at her. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. You stand there and tell me that your feelings for me are what got you into trouble, when, don't you see, there's no trouble at all? It doesn't have to be this way--" He gestured out around him to emphasize his point. "All of this is new, remember, no Starfleet around the corner to rescue us, or twist the Prime Directive around it's little finger to use it to its own advantage. We can make this ship into a new place; we have already, into a place that uses Starfleet to guide it. The Prime Directive doesn't have to be ignored, but used in a manner that works for us, in this singular situation. You were ready to make that step with me Kathryn, that day on the beach. You chose to come back for us. You have broken rules in the past: what makes this time so different?"
She answered, "This is the first time I let my heart lead this crew, Chakotay, and if I'm not careful, my heart could lead us astray." She took a breath, and let a moment go by before she continued. "Everyone knows why we went back for you, and my emotional well-being is no reason to destroy a tried-and-true principle that has served Starfleet so well." He looked as if he were about to interrupt her, so she quickly added, "Not in every case, of course, but I can't ignore that I blatantly disregarded a set of laws belonging to another species, and that is strictly forbidden. As well it should be."
"Are you saying you should have left us behind?"
No reply came. She couldn't think of one. Now his eyes accused her. He turned away and shot through her doors before she could think to stop him.
*Now there's really no chance for sleep tonight,* she thought, numb to everything that had just transpired except the fact that she was bone tired and saw no relief in sight. Chasing Chakotay down the corridors wasn't an option. She had no answer to his question.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Janeway roamed the ship for hours, insomnia raging. Ultimately she ended up in the deserted messhall formerly known as her dining room, forehead pressed against the glass. Her face was set in stone, reflecting none of the torments raging just beneath the surface. Did she really think they ought to have left them behind? There was no way to know. It was her newest Kobayashi Maru. She couldn't seem to go through life without running into a lose-lose situation at least once every five years. And it was never something like, "Well, both meals look terrible, I guess I'll have that one." These were life-altering choices, all with consequences she'd rather not face. *That's what you get for choosing Starfleet, Kath.*
A familiar flash of light caught the corner of her eye. The first thought that crossed her mind was, *Please, no, not tonight, any other night, please, please, don't be Q--*
"I heard that, Kathy, and don't think I don't take it personally. Aren't you at least glad to see a familiar face?" Q swept her into a bear hug, crushing her arms at her sides. He pulled back. "I'm happy to see *you,* you know. I've been watching you and that Chuckles, dearie. I'm here to give you something. Something you really need."
Kathryn tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to security. Intruder alert."
"Oh, Kathy, why do you even bother? You know as well as I do that it's not working." She tried tapping her commbadge again, and as expected, there was no response. She sighed in resignation. Exhaustion had finally gotten the better of her.
"Well, Q, I hope what you have to give me is a good night's sleep, because I don't think I could handle anything more."
Q examined her face closely. "Boy, you're worse off than I ever suspected. Don't you even want to try and make me go away? Try to convince me that you don't need what I have to give? Come on, Kath, I expected you to fight the good fight."
She shook her head, a small smile appearing in a thin line across her lips. "Unless you want to change the way things have gone the past month, I don't think there's anything you have that I need. And please don't tempt me with visions of the alpha quadrant so you can attempt procreation with me, Q, because I simply don't have the patience."
Q brightened. "'Change the way things have gone,' you say. You want to see how things might have been if you had left your Mystical Angry Warrior and protege-in-training behind, eh? I thought as much." He rubbed his hands together. "Now, darling, you *know* I'm not in the habit of giving something for nothing, but in this case I'll make an exception. After all, you *are* my favorite Captain, no matter what I tell Picard. " He paused and took a close look at her. "Well, you look like you're ready, so here we go!"
"Wait, Q, what are you talking about?" Fear came through Kathryn's resignation suddenly. "I don't want to--"
And they were both gone in a flash of light.
~*~~*~~*~
"Alpha Quadrant, Mister Paris, warp six." No sounded issued from the pilot's lips, but she was sure she heard his spirit die as they left the only woman he'd ever loved behind to live out her days on a hostile planet, surrounded by enemies and prison bars. Hostility Paris could have dealt with in his own time by joining in her exile on the planet, but prison was another story. He'd attempted to stay behind to wait out her sentence, but his request was rejected by the high council, and there was no hope.
A blanket of despair settled on the ship, one so palpable Janeway could feel the weight of it resting squarely on her head, and heart.
Two hours went by. Then three. There was no sudden flash of insight. No epiphany compelling Janeway to reverse course to retrieve her family. Voyager continued its trek toward the Alpha Quadrant, never once looking back to reconsider the decision.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time passed for Kathryn as if in a vacuum. She was numb. It was damn near impossible to roll out of bed in the mornings, much less put on a uniform and leave her quarters. Somehow, she managed to make it to the bridge every day, more or less on time. Only a week after they'd abandoned B'Elanna and Chakotay, Kathryn caught herself smacking her commbadge with, "Janeway to Tor--" Her voice came to a crashing halt, breath catching, a lump forming in her throat. Her stomach churned in rebellion and the grief she had so neatly compressed began to leak out. Shaking her head once, she stoically continued. "Janeway to Carey." Her hands were shaking and she tried to remain in control.
Tom leaned over his console, head dropped low.
At the end of the shift she barely made it back to her quarters in one piece. When she finally arrived, the shattering silence around her was unbearable. Sinking to the floor, she wondered how she could have made such a terrible choice. Her head pounded, and she welcomed the pain as a way to focus her attention on something other than the empty cabin next door. She ate nothing that evening, and gave herself one of the sleeping aids the Doctor had so staunchly demanded she utilize when insomnia struck. She was using them a lot more often these days.
Each day passed as the day before, emptiness becoming a way of life for Voyager and her crew. Tom still had great respect for Janeway; she had given so much to him in the four years they'd known each other. But resentment still crept up on Tom when he wasn't paying attention, and there were times he could barely look at his Captain for fear of exploding in rage. Broken hearted, he kept on living, but his life felt hollow without B'Elanna in it.
Meanwhile, Kathryn spent long hours weighing her decision over and over again inside her head. She was consumed with the idea that perhaps she had not chosen wisely. The Prime Directive was the way to go, in every case. Right? She argued with herself day and night, refusing to let go of the quandary, refusing to go on with her life. Her mind and soul remained on the planet Keltin, although her body was moving farther away from it every day.
She had always valued both Chakotay and B'Elanna beyond compare, but the truth of life without them had proven to be more desolate than she'd expected. From every corner Kathryn felt the coolness; her crew had not responded well to her overruling decision to leave them behind. None of them voiced their displeasure directly, but the Captain was neither blind nor deaf. Escape from their reproach was impossible, but she could not reconcile returning to Keltin with what she believed. Even her passion for Chakotay and her true affection for B'Elanna did not outweigh her Starfleet training, and the journey home continued without mercy.
So, weeks passed, and Kathryn grew more and more distant from those who had loved her, and her heart suffered daily for it. There was nothing left to do but go on, although going on seemed impossible without Chakotay by her side.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Doctor, this is too much. I am fine, really."
The Doctor continued his scan. According to these readings, Captain, you are not, I repeat, not fine. You are bordering on malnutrition, your electrolytes are completely off kilter, your HDLs are the lowest--"
Janeway hopped off the bio bed and made a beeline for the door.
She glanced at Tom Paris treating Harry Kim for some sort of injury or another. It didn't look serious, so she wasn't about to stop to discuss it. She wanted out of sickbay that instant. Tired of the Doctor's constant pestering for her to have a physical, she had finally relented. The results of the physical were nothing she was interested in a the moment, so instead of dealing with them, she tried evasion tactics. There were other things on her mind.
Just before she reached the door, the Doctor materialized in front of her, shocking the hell out her. "Doctor," she declared in her most commandeering voice, "Get out of my way right now. I have to get to the bridge."
The Doctor stood his ground. "You are not on duty right now, Captain, and the only way you are getting out that door is to have a five minute conversation with me about improving the status of your health. If you are not willing to do so, I will have no choice but to relieve you of command."
Her eyes narrowed menacingly. "You wouldn't dare."
"Don't tempt me Captain, I can and I will." He watched her swing away from him and begin pacing. Tom and Harry were riveted to the scene. Harry had never felt quite so invisible in his life, and was greatly relieved for it. Janeway didn't even register that she was the object of their undivided attention. He had a feeling if she did notice his staring, he'd become the unwitting object of her wrath. *Why couldn't I sprain my ankle some other day?* he thought.
Janeway was seething. "Doctor I am perfectly capable of managing my own health, so let's just--"
"Captain Janeway, I must insist--"
She whirled around. "Goddammit, Chakotay, why can't you leave me the hell alone!" she roared, eyes shooting daggers at the Doctor. She was shaking with rage.
Silence. Three pairs of eyes stared incredulously at their Captain. Even the Doctor was speechless. He cleared his throat, an odd gesture for one who so obviously had nothing to clear.
"Captain, what did you say?"
"You heard me, Doctor," she drawled, and started to stride past him on her way to the door. The Doctor seized an arm and jerked her back toward him.
"You called me Chakotay."
At that, all the color left her face in an instant and her eyes widened. Two months of rare meals had left her eyes sunken, cheeks drawn, and the effect was startling. She was horrified, yet disbelieving. Shaking her head, she whispered, "No I didn't." She coughed.
"Yes, you did."
She was still whispering. "Don't be ridiculous, I couldn't have..."
Tom stepped forward. "I heard you, Captain. You called him Chakotay." He was almost apologetic. Eyes reflected the sorrow that hadn't lessened in the two past months, for any of them.
Janeway was nearly gasping for breath. Her gaze traveled to inspect the faces of Tom, Harry, and the Doctor. The hologram was still gripping her arm like a vise, but she couldn't feel the pain, didn't imagine she'd have four perfectly rounded finger prints left on her arm in a few hours. Like a deer caught in headlights, Kathryn was frozen with fear. Long moments later she ripped her arm from the Doctor's grasp. One thought ran through her mind: escape. At the moment, her three observers were all still somewhat shocked by her violent outburst, so she bolted from the room.
In her wake, the Doctor was at a loss. He looked to Mr. Paris. "Two months have gone by. I don't know how much more she can take. I don't know how much more *I* can take, for that matter." As a physician he had more than adequate knowledge to treat patients with medical ailments, but there were many times he wished he'd been programmed as a counselor as well. This was one of those times.
"I don't know, Doc," Tom answered wearily. "I know how you feel." The three stared out the door, all wondering when Captain Janeway would finally reach her breaking point.