Disclaimer: Paramount rules. I’m just playing with the characters.
Equilibrium (an Equinox 2 episode edition)
by Mizvoy
Chakotay had initially thought that Neelix’s idea for a potluck dinner would be a good way to begin the healing needed following the Equinox disaster. The elation the crew had felt at finding a sister ship in the Delta Quadrant had been replaced with anger and confusion when the Equinox betrayed Voyager to the nucleogenic beings that nearly destroyed her. Their subsequent battles had demoralized them even further. They needed to come together in a relaxed atmosphere and remember that they were still all right, that they still had each other.
The loss of the Equinox had done nothing to make them feel better about their exile in the Delta Quadrant. It had been somehow comforting to see another Starfleet vessel on the viewscreen after all these years, and everyone had grieved to see Equinox explode in a warp-core breach. Now they needed to put that behind them, regain their hope for their journey home, and integrate the Equinox survivors into their ranks.
But, first, they needed to heal their wounds, none more serious than the very public break between the captain and first officer. It was no secret that Chakotay had spent the last hours of the crisis in his quarters, relieved of duty because he questioned the captain’s motives and orders. This dinner would be a good way for the command team to show the crew a much-needed united front. But they couldn’t fake it. The crew would be able to tell whether or not they had resolved their differences or were still struggling to find their balance.
He was glad when Captain Janeway had volunteered to bring something to the dinner, even though he knew she was joking about the croutons. After they had restored Voyager’s nameplate to the bridge bulkhead, she had immediately retreated to her ready room for the remainder of the shift. He wanted to talk to her before they arrived at the dinner party, but he could think of no good reason to interrupt her solitude. His reports were ongoing, and the ship sat dead in space effecting repairs. It might be days before he could justify violating her inner sanctum with valuable information.
He imagined the look of irritation on her face if he walked in and said, “Kathryn, we need to make up,” and was about to give it a try, anyway, when she burst from her Ready Room and strode quickly to the upper bridge. She paused, a foot poised on the top step, and looked down at him.
“Did you mention the time for the pot luck dinner, Commander?”
“It’s at 1900.”
“I’ll try my best to come. Carry on.” With that, she disappeared into the turbolift. The terse, businesslike conversation echoed through the silent bridge. Chakotay heard Harry Kim sigh and could see the tension in Tom Paris’ shoulders as he ran diagnostics at the helm. He rubbed his face with his right hand and tried to appear unalarmed. She would “try to come,” she had said. He would have to make sure she did. Her failure to attend would only make things worse.
Chakotay left his quarters at 1830 hours with a huge salad bowl balanced in his left hand and headed for the captain’s quarters. She didn’t know he was coming, so he was sure she would be surprised to see him, a tactical advantage. He planned to sit in her quarters until she replicated her “croutons” and came with him to the mess hall. If, in the process, they ironed out their differences, then all the better. In spite of his resolve, he pressed the door chime with butterflies in his stomach. No answer.
“Computer, where is Captain Janeway?”
“Captain Janeway is in her quarters.”
He pressed the door chime again.
“Who is it?” came the muffled and somewhat cranky reply.
“It’s Chakotay.”
Pause. A long pause. Chakotay considered shifting the salad to his other hand. He considered ringing the chime again, and thought better of it. For a moment, he even considered entering his override code and bursting in on her. Finally, she said, “Come in.”
The doors opened to the darkness of a cave. Chakotay stepped into the room far enough to let the doors close behind him and waited for his eyes to adjust. Even the windows had been darkened to shut out the feeble starlight. His mind took him back to the captain’s depression during their experience in the Void, and his stomach turned at the thought. “Please, not this again,” he thought to himself. Soft classical music filled the darkness, but he wasn’t sure of its composer. Mozart? Tchaikovsky? He finally realized that his eyes would never adjust to total darkness.
“Kathryn?”
“Sorry. Computer, fifty percent illumination.”
Chakotay saw her stretched out on her lounge chair, a partially finished mug of coffee cradled in her hands. She was in a robe and her hair was in a towel, but he was sure she had been out of the shower and sitting there awhile. She turned to look at him.
“What’s that?”
He smiled and set the bowl on her coffee table. “My salad for the dinner tonight.”
She regarded him coldly. A grin tugged at the edge of her mouth. “Do you expect me to toss it for you?”
“I just thought I’d make sure you remembered the croutons. I can’t stand the thought of salad without croutons, can you?”
She didn’t smile. “Bull.”
He looked down. “Okay. The truth is that I wanted to be sure you came to the dinner tonight.”
“I’ve decided not to go.”
“A bad decision.”
“Damn it, Chakotay! Are you my judge and jury?” She stood up and threw the mug against the wall. “Must you question my every decision?”
Shocked, Chakotay stood for a long moment trying to decide how to react to her tirade. He had seen her angry before, of course, and he had seen her angry with him. But, he had never seen her throw anything. Finally, he walked over to the wall and started picking up the shards of broken pottery.
“What the hell are you doing? Get out!”
“You’re barefoot, Kathryn. I don’t want you to cut yourself. I’ll clean up, and then I’ll leave, if you want me to,” he kept his voice calm. His mother always told him that a quiet voice calms a storm.
He carefully picked up the larger pieces and dumped them into the recycle unit, and then he activated the floor cleaning mechanism. He replicated a damp rag and cleaned the remnants of coffee off of the wall. When he finally looked up, Janeway stood with her fist to her mouth, struggling to control her emotions.
“I’m sorry, Chakotay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He stood up and resisted the urge to go and put his arms around her. “This has been one of the most difficult times we’ve faced in five years, Kathryn. It’s been hard on everyone, but especially you. You were in a no- win situation.”
“I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve listened to Tuvok.” She collapsed into the chair and rested her face in her hands. “I promised myself this afternoon that I’d listen to you from now on, no matter what, but the first time you challenge me. . . .”
“Well, at least you didn’t throw the cup at me.”
“Childish. An adolescent temper tantrum. I’m so embarrassed.”
He studied her, wished he could comfort her. “No one will ever know about it but you and me.”
“Maybe not the cup, but they know I relieved you and sent you to your quarters. I need time to come to terms with my actions, Chakotay. I can’t face them.”
“You can’t face your actions?”
“I can’t face the crew.”
He pushed the ottoman away from her chair and sat on it, not a foot from her face. “You have to face the crew.”
“But, Chakotay, have you seen the way they look at me? They wonder if I’m sane. Hell, I wonder if I’m sane. What will I do next? You’re a brave man to be in the same room with me.” She sat back in the chair. “I’ll face them tomorrow.”
“Not tomorrow. Tonight. The sooner the better.” He watched the emotions play across her face, defiance of his opinion, fear at her own volatile reactions, guilt, pain, regret, sorrow. “It won’t get easier if you wait, Kathryn.”
“Tell me how I can face them, Chakotay? How?”
“You can face them because I’ll be right there beside you.”
She was silent awhile. “You probably should have relieved me of command, Chakotay. I was out of control. I lost my grip and let things get personal. Everything you said was right.” She buried her face in her hands and began to cry. “I almost murdered that crewman.”
He leaned forward and rubbed her shoulder as she sobbed, then he pulled her to him and let her cry on his shoulder. “But, he didn’t die, Kathryn. He’s alive and well. Voyager’s in one piece, and Ransom did the right thing, too.”
“That crewman is alive because of you, Chakotay, because you had the courage to defy me,” she replied, her voice muffled in his shoulder.
“Well, that’s okay. We’re a team. We balance each other. I knew, once you realized what you’d almost done, that you’d come back from the edge and regain yourself. If I hadn’t believed in your fundamental goodness, Kathryn, I would never have gone willingly to my quarters. If I didn’t believe in your integrity, I would’ve led a mutiny today.”
She pulled back from him, drying her eyes with the backs of her hands. His face was so close to hers that he could see tiny red veins in her eyes, a sign of her tension, and dark shadows beneath her eyes that spoke of exhaustion. He could tell that she wanted to collapse into him and let him hold her for awhile, but he also knew she wouldn’t let herself cross that line. “I think I need a handkerchief.”
Chakotay replicated one and handed it to her, resettling on her sofa a few feet away. He smiled as she blew her nose and dried her eyes. “Do you feel better?”
“A good cry always helps,” she grinned. “I’m much less likely to throw things after a few tears.”
“Great. I don’t have to worry about ducking, then?”
She laughed. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m a Starfleet captain, after all, and they don’t cry.”
Chakotay couldn’t help but smile. “You’re also Kathryn, a very sensitive and gentle person underneath the tough Starfleet armor. You don’t give her enough space to live and breathe. When she finally appears, she overwhelms you.”
“What are you? A philosopher?”
“I’m an expert at Kathryn Janeway.”
“And Captain Janeway?”
“They have a lot in common.”
“Well.”
He stood up and beckoned with his hand. “Come on now. You need to get dressed for the dinner.”
She stood up and pulled her robe closer around her. “Keep me company?”
“Okay.” He followed her into her bedroom and sat on the bed facing her living room. Behind him he could hear her rustling in her closet, dressing, brushing out her hair. Their months of exile on New Earth had left them comfortable with each other at times like this, trusting and trusted. They had both accepted their limits and relished what intimacy they could allow themselves on Voyager. When she disappeared into the bathroom, Chakotay lay back on her bed and put his arms behind his head, relaxing for the first time in days.
“Perhaps I should step down.”
“And do what, Kathryn?”
“I could be the science officer.”
“We’ve gotten along without one for five years.”
“Assistant engineer?”
Chakotay chuckled. “You and B’Elanna would be at each other’s throats day and night. Besides, she’s a better engineer than you are.”
She looked out the door at him with narrowed eyes. “Oh, really?”
“Okay, you’re good, too. But there can only be one chief engineer, and I don’t think B’Elanna could handle a demotion.”
“Maybe something less official, like assistant to the captain.”
“You do brew a good cup of coffee. How are you at keeping a calendar?”
“Ship’s counselor?”
“Not unless ducking lessons come with it!”
She laughed out loud. “I could help Neelix.”
“God preserve us. Even Neelix is a better cook than you.”
She came out of the bathroom smiling, dressed in a clean uniform and brushing her hair. “So, you think I should stay captain for now?”
“It’s really the only thing you can do.”
She stopped and looked at him sadly. “Sometimes better than others.”
He sat up and pointed at her. “Don’t start that again.”
She finished brushing her hair and pinned her commbadge on her tunic. “I need to replicate my contribution to the party.” Chakotay dutifully followed her into her living area and sat down at her table, folding his hands in front of him. Suddenly she was across from him, her hands on his, her eyes worried.
“Chakotay, tell me again how I can face the crew?”
“You can face them because I’ll be there with you. Right beside you.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why would you support me when I was wrong?”
“Just because you’re captain doesn’t mean you’ll always be right.”
“It does to me.”
He shook his head. “No, Kathryn. You forget that I’ve been a captain, too, and I know better. I was wrong, plenty of times. Mistakes or not, I stayed the captain. You deserve our loyalty for all you’ve done for us.”
“But . . .”
“But nothing. Ultimately, you were right. By chasing Ransom, we captured Lessing. Lessing gave us the shield harmonics that let our sensors find the Ankari who could communicate with the nucleogenic beings. If we’d turned back, as I suggested, Equinox would’ve gotten too far away. We never could’ve bargained to keep Voyager intact.”
She studied his face, thinking through what he’d said. “But, you were right, too. We needed to communicate with the beings to survive. We needed to find the Ankari. When we finally did that, we found a solution. So, maybe we both had part of the answer.”
“I told you we’re a balanced pair.”
“I don’t deserve you, Chakotay.”
“Am I that bad?”
“You’re that good. I had to go 70,000 light years to find the perfect first officer.”
“So, when we walk in to the dinner tonight as a united front, Kathryn, the crew will know that everything’s going to be all right. We’ve worked out our differences and everything’s going to get back to normal.”
She sat back and crossed her arms. “Normal?”
“Well, as normal as it can be way out here.”
The silence stretched as they regarded each other across the table. Chakotay became aware of the music, soft and relaxing, of the sound of the replicator beeping that the food was ready, of Kathryn Janeway’s steady gaze that pinned him in his seat and made him hold his breath. The attraction between them was palpable and almost overwhelming, and he suddenly remembered another table on New Earth when they had first acknowledged the potential intimacy of their friendship. Chakotay could see the steady beat of her pulse in her neck as she leaned toward him, finally breaking the spell.
“Thank you, Chakotay, for coming by to get me tonight.”
He smiled, relieved, in a way, that the familiar friendship was reasserting itself. “I wouldn’t have been the perfect first officer if I hadn’t.”
Five minutes later, the doors opened to the mess hall and the command team entered together, laughing at some private joke and obviously anxious to be with their crew. The tension that had been building in the room evaporated in an instant, and a joyful Harry Kim, relieved to see his commanders together, raised his glass in salute. “To the best captain and first officer in the Delta Quadrant and the Alpha Quadrant!”
Grabbing glasses of their own, Janeway and Chakotay faced one another and smiled. As the crew returned to their revelry, Janeway slid her hand into Chakotay’s and squeezed it briefly. “Well, the best first officer, anyway.”
He smiled. “No, Kathryn. Balance. You can’t have a fine first officer unless you have a fine captain, too.”
“If you say so, Chakotay. To equilibrium.” They toasted one another and drank. The champagne was cold and tickled their noses, making them laugh out loud.
And so, the healing began.