Star Trek: Voyager - The Neverending Night
Chapter 2
13 Sep 2021First Officer’s Log, Stardate 52081.2: It’s been fifty three days since we were pulled into this region of space. We haven’t encountered any stars or planets at all in our time here, so we’ve been forced to ration supplies and fuel. All departments are operating on minimum energy levels. Crew morale continues to fall, even though we reactivated the holodecks. Our only course of action is to follow the trail of theta radiation and hope it leads to a way out of here.
“This won’t be much of a briefing.” Lieutenant Torres bemoaned. “There’s nothing new to report.”
Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres, half Klingon, half human, was Voyager’s chief engineer. A volatile combination, Chakotay had observed that Torres’ technical prowess was only matched by her explosive temper. As a senior officer, Chakotay expected Torress to keep a better lid on her emotions. Though, in this situation he couldn’t exactly blame her for venting.
“Humor me then.” Chakotay barbed.
“All right, let’s see.” Torres paused in a mock deep thought. “The warp core is running at peak efficiency. Just like last week, and the week before that.” She gestured over to Tom Paris who sat across the briefing room table from her. “Aside from Tom and Harry overloading the holodeck, my engineering staff is going stir crazy with nothing to do.”
“Hey.” Paris said defensively. “That wasn’t entirely my fault.”
The entire senior staff was gathered in the briefing room as they had done every week for the past two months. Usually, Captain Janeway would be the one to administrate the meetings, but Chakotay ran them in her absence.
“Thanks B’Elanna, let’s move on. Ensign Kim?” Chakotay said to the Ensign, who was the operations department head.
“Nada” Kim replied hastily.
“Care to elaborate?” Chakotay felt like he was pulling teeth.
“All systems are operating within normal parameters.” He reported.
“Alright, anything new on sensors?” Chakotay asked the room.
“Theta radiation levels continue to increase.” Tuvok replied.
Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Voyager’s tactical officer and third in command was a full blooded Vulcan. Often the voice of reason in any conversation, Tuvok’s temperament was one of total rationality, a trait which his race was known for. Chakotay and Tuvok never exactly saw eye to eye. When Voyager was initially pulled into the Delta quadrant, Chakotay’s Maquis crew was joined with Janeway’s Starfleet crew. Most of the friction between the two crews and their respective philosophies had gone away in the years since. Still, Tuvok, who would have been second in command had Chakotay not assumed the position instead, never exactly got along with the Commander. Tuvok never showed his discomfort, nor any emotion for that matter, since Vulcans suppress their emotions. But interactions between him and Chakotay had never progressed past working professionalism.
“Is it hazardous?” Chakotay asked Tuvok.
“Not at the moment.” Tuvok replied flatly. “Shields are holding and radiation levels within the ship have not risen. However, the closer we get to the source of the radiation, the higher the drain on our power reserves will be.”
“Don’t even know what the Captain hopes to find out here.” Paris interjected.
“The source of the radiation.” Seven of Nine said.
“Right, but why? Aren’t you usually supposed to fly away from the deadly radiation?” Paris asked.
“He has a point.” Torres added. “The radiation isn’t a problem now, but there’s no telling when that may change. And if it does, we may not have the power left to compensate. The draw on our deuterium reserves is already putting a strain on the ship’s systems.”
“It’s the Captain’s orders.” Chakotay said.
“And where is she exactly?” Torres inquired.
“Holed up in her quarters like a vampire.” Tom jested.
“The Captain doesn’t have to explain herself or her orders to any of us.” Chakotay wanted to put a stop to this line of questioning before it got out of hand.
“We understand that Chakotay.” Torres said. “But you have to admit, it’s pretty odd.”
“I would like to add something on that note.” Neelix said from the far side of the table.
Neelix, a Talaxian, was Voyager’s chef and crew morale officer. His appearance was the most out of place in this group. The tuft of blonde hair atop his head looked almost like a cloud that perpetually floated above him. He had whiskers on the sides of his chin and ridges at the edges of his temples. While he could be strange at times, he was always the jolliest of the bunch. Neelix always took it upon himself to look for the silver lining in every cloud and tried his best to keep the crew spirits high.
“Crew morale is, well….” Neelix had trouble finishing his sentence, almost as if by saying what he was thinking, that in turn would make it come true.
“Deteriorating.” The Doctor finished the sentence for him. As the often bearer of bad news to patients, the Doctor had no trouble delivering it.
“Right.” Neelix continued. “As the crew morale officer I feel responsible for the sorry state of affairs that we’re in.”
“Come on, Neelix. We know it’s not your fault.” Harry Kim said reassuringly.
“But still, I feel at least partially responsible for fixing it.” Neelix continued. “I submitted a report on some things we could try, maybe add some variety to everyone’s daily routine. Rotating crew assignments, maybe add in some educational content. I myself wouldn’t mind squeezing in some tactical training.”
“I saw your report, it was a good list. We should start working to implement them.” Chakotay said, trying to be supportive.
“Yes, I think it would help. But, well, the Captain, she’s…” Neelix trailed off again. “People on this ship look up to her. They take comfort in talking to her, seeing her around. When she’s happy, the crew is happy. When she’s not, well…I just think that maybe she can come join the recreational activities once in a while. For the crew’s sake.”
The room went silent. Everyone looked at Chakotay, waiting for a response. But Chakotay didn’t have one to give. “The Captain decides when she does and does not do things. It’s her privilege. If she’s needed on the bridge, she will come. But until then if she wants to run the ship from her quarters, she can damn well do so, and that’s the end of it. Understood?”
“Yeah, sure.” Torres replied insincerely.
“Look.” Chakotay continued. “We’re all feeling the pressure, including me. But we have to make the best of it.”
“Maybe we’ve got the wrong attitude here. This could be a good change of pace.” Kim proposed. “Why don’t we think of this as a two month vacation instead?”
Torres was not impressed with Kim’s suggestion at all. “That’s a great idea, Harry. Why didn’t I think of that?” She said sarcastically.
“Well if that’s all we have, dismissed.” Chakotay said.
Everyone in the room stood up to leave.
“Gee Harry, a vacation. And I thought I was the optimist.” Paris joked as he followed the ensign out of the room.
Once the senior staff had left, Chakotay found himself alone. He stood at the head of the table, arms folded. Beneath his gaze was the PADD Seven had given to him earlier that day. It rested on the table motionless, as if taunting him. Chakotay took a moment to steel himself before he picked up the PADD and walked toward the turbolift.
He made his way down to the Captain’s quarters on deck three. Once outside the door he pressed the top button on the panel next to it, signaling the door chime and his request to enter. Nothing happened. Chakotay was used to the doors opening almost instantly. But now they remained closed, as if to ward off an unwanted presence. Finally, the doors parted with a swishing sound.
It was dark inside, so much so that Chakotay had to take a moment for his eyes to adjust. He took a step in. The Captain’s quarters had always been tidy, with the Captain herself preferring a neat and ordered living space. Though as he looked around the room, Chakotay saw that while most things were as they should be, others weren’t. He noted the pile of PADD’s that had accumulated on the Captain’s desk. He spotted the two, no three half empty cups of coffee that had not been recycled in the replicator. The outer top of the Captain’s uniform was sprawled haphazardly over the top of her chair. For a moment, it occurred to Chakotay that the state of her quarters reflected the current state of her mind. But he quickly buried the unsettling thought.
“Yes.” Said a lone voice feminine from the darkness.
“Captain?” Chakotay said back to the general vicinity of the voice.
In the dark, Chakotay could hear the subtle sound of fabric reforming as the Captain stood up from her chair. She was facing away from him, staring into the windows of her quarters, which showed the same formless black that the viewscreen had. “Commander?” The Captain simply replied.
Chakotay looked down at his PADD and held it up in the air toward her. “Seven’s latest astrometric survey.”
“Has she detected any planetary or stellar bodies?” Janeway asked.
“Nothing for two hundred and fifty lightyears in all directions. B’Elanna is worried about our deuterium reserves running low. I’ve ordered all departments to further reduce power consumption where they can.”
“What about the theta radiation? Has she located the source yet?”
Chakotay shook his head. “Not yet. The crew is concerned that if the radiation levels continue to rise, it will put more strain on our shields beyond what they can handle…” Chakotay left the end of the sentence open, expecting Janeway to finish it with her justification for her orders. “Shall we alter course?”
“No.” Janeway replied sharply. “The theta radiation is the only lead we have to go on for finding a way out of here. Maintain course.”
“Aye Captain.” Chakotay replied. He did not add anything further, instead preferring to let the silence hang for a moment.
“Was that all?” Janeway asked.
“Actually I’ve been thinking, I’ve been saving up my holodeck rations and I’ve got three full hours built up. Care to join me for a few rounds of Velocity? Might help to take your mind off things.” Chakotay knew his request sounded hollow and that Janeway would see right through it. But he hoped that she would take the invitation anyway.
“My mind is perfectly clear.”
Janeway’s rejection stung, but Chakotay wasn’t about to let the issue drop so easily. “And what if I told you that I’m not leaving until you join me?”
“Then I’d say ‘have a seat, it’ll be awhile’” Janeway’s quick wit reflected her sharp intelligence. Often a strength of her’s which had gotten Voyager out of many dangerous situations.
“Then I’ll be blunt.” Chakotay declared. “You’ve picked a bad time to decide to isolate yourself from the crew. This ship needs its Captain, especially now.”
Out of the darkness, Captain Janeway turned around and walked forward into the light, like a spectre emerging from the underworld. She was wearing the standard black uniform pants and blue-grey undershirt. The four golden rank pips on her collar, signifying her as Captain, shone in the light. She wore her chestnut brown hair in a bob which ended just below her chin. The color of her hair and fair, delicate facial features were owed to her Irish heritage. Chakotay couldn’t help but note that the Captain’s hair, while usually smooth and neat, was now somewhat frizzy and unkempt.
“Would you be satisfied if I said that I’m just catching up on some reading?” She asked.
“Can’t say I would be.” Chakotay replied.
Janeway smiled at that, then she turned away to look out the windows of her quarters. “This region of space, what do the crew call it?”
“The Void.” He stated.
“The…Void.” Janeway elongated the pronunciation as if to absorb its full meaning. “Charming name.” She paused for a moment to consider her next words. “I’m going to pass on that game Commander. As for shipboard morale, I leave that in your capable hands. If anyone asks for me, tell them the Captain sends her regards.”
“Kathryn.” Chakotay pleaded.
“That will be all Commander.”
Chakotay weighed his decision to press the issue further, but in the end he decided against it. He set the PADD he was holding down on Janeway’s desk and left the room.
Janeway found herself alone once again, staring into the empty darkness. She sat down at her desk and began to lose herself in thought, pondering about the decisions that she had made over the past four years. At her heart, Janeway was a scientist. Her natural demeanor was analytical, calculating, and observant. When she was promoted into command positions, it had forced her to grow in other directions. Her slow calculating nature had become quick and decisive. Her ability to break down problems to their core had been transformed into a keen tactical prowess which she relied upon to outwit her enemies. All the while she had cultivated the part of herself which allowed her to show affection and empathy toward her crew, a necessary ability in being the leader of a community. Oftentimes these traits worked in tandem with each other. But sometimes, they came into conflict.
The one decision she made at the start of Voyager’s journey, which had come to define her captaincy, was the one that continued to plague her with a pain that cut right through her very soul. Thus far, Janeway had been able to avoid reflecting upon that decision. The Borg, the Vidian, the Kazon. Enemies that Voyager had encountered had ended up occupying so much of her mind that she had little time to dwell on anything else. Even the more mundane minutiae such as spatial anomalies or interstellar gas clouds was enough to distance herself from her thoughts. But not here, not in this emptiness in which Voyager now found itself.
Over the past four years she had made countless decisions, some in an instant, others after taking the time to contemplate. But she wasn’t the type of person to reopen old wounds. She saw no point in the practice. The past was the past, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. So why bother agonizing over what’s already been done? Yet, just as Voyager was incapable of escaping the Void, neither was Janway able to escape what she had done four years ago during Voyager’s first true encounter with an alien life form: The Caretaker.
A powerful alien entity, the Caretaker had snatched up her ship and crew and stranded them seventy thousand lightyears away from home. At the time, the Caretaker was dying and he thought that the crew of Voyager could assist him in protecting the Ocampa, another alien race over which he had taken stewardship. Ultimately, his plan had failed. The Caretaker had died and in order to protect the Ocampa, Janeway had been forced to destroy the Caretaker’s array at the expense of eliminating any possibility of returning home.
Janeway did not begrudge the Caretaker for his intentions, although she disagreed with his methods. In the end, all alien civilizations had their own viewpoint on living in a universe which cared little for them in return. The Vidians stole organs, the Borg enslaved consciousness, the Kazon pilfered technology. All races simply adapted to their circumstances. Just as the Caretaker had. Just as Voyager had.
Janeway was certain that she had made the morally correct decision. Starfleet officers put the needs of others ahead of their own. As captain, it was her duty to uphold the principles and values embodied by Starfleet and she stood by those principles time and time again. But she couldn’t help but wonder about all the lives they had left behind. Would Harry Kim, still an ensign, have been a bright and aspiring lieutenant by now? Would Tom Paris have reunited and reconciled with his father? What of the Maquis crew? Chakotay and B’Elanna, what would they be doing?
They had all put their lives on hold because of her, and that was what bothered her the most. The fact that Janeway had made the decision for the crew, and never gave them a choice about it. To choose protecting the Ocampa over returning home. She had made a selfish decision and the crew paid the price for it.
I’m no different than the Caretaker.
Captain Janeway, master of this vessel, was confident, bold, cunning and decisive. Kathryn Janeway, guardian of her crew, was kind, caring, empathetic and compassionate. Captain Janeway commanded her ship and executed her duties in the best keepings of Starfleet tradition. Kathryn Janeway cared deeply for the expression of life and prosperity of her crew; she put their needs ahead of her own. Often, Captain Janeway and Kathryn Janeway were one and the same. But four years ago, Captain Janeway had made a decision and she couldn’t help but wonder, should it have been Kathryn Janeway who had made it instead?