Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount. I’m just borrowing them.

Summary: Night and Day will be a series of episode additions that let us see the Kathryn/Captain differences from Chakotay’s perspective. This is an episode addition to “One Small Step” in which Chakotay is called to task for his failure to follow orders.

Night and Day

by mizvoy

“One Small Step” (PG) Stardate 53293.1

(Immediately following “One Small Step”–the episode where the Delta Flyer is nearly lost while retrieving the logs and the body of John Kelly, the Mars explorer, from the graviton ellipse).

Except for the glow of the panel above the biobed and the soft chirp of the medical instruments, sickbay was dark and quiet, as it always was during night watch. Chakotay touched the cortical stimulator still fastened to his forehead and winced slightly at the resulting stab of pain. The atmospheric buffers had activated minutes earlier, so he knew it was just after 0300. In just a few hours, he’d meet with Captain Janeway about his insubordination on the Delta Flyer, and the thought of the confrontation made him slightly nauseous.

He sighed and shifted on the bed, trying to find a position that would ease his conscience. He thought through the course of events again. The captain had told him to abandon the Mars probe and leave the graviton ellipse at once, and he had refused to do so. Her order was clear and direct, as the record would confirm, and Tom and Seven had begged him to obey, yet he had deliberately ignored them all, nearly costing Voyager three lives and the Delta Flyer in the process. The fact that everyone had survived in relatively good condition did nothing to lessen the seriousness of his offense. Not even the salvage of John Kelly’s logs made it right.

Janeway had passed through sickbay twice since their perilous rescue, for he’d heard that Voyager itself had been in danger of destruction during the effort to retrieve the Delta Flyer. The captain’s first visit had occurred immediately after he’d been beamed aboard, directly to sickbay. She had stood close to his biobed, her hand resting on his arm as the doctor briefed her on his condition. When the EMH said that his injury would necessitate an overnight stay, she had gazed down at him sympathetically and had given his arm a reassuring squeeze. She hadn’t learned yet that it was his insubordination that had trapped the Flyer inside the anomaly, and he hadn’t had the strength or the courage to tell her himself.

When she had returned a few hours later, her demeanor had toughened, and there had been no sign of the sympathy she had shown him on her previous visit. Of course, Chakotay knew why her attitude had changed. She had, in the meantime, debriefed both Tom and Seven, and they had told her about his blatant disregard of her orders. She now knew that he was responsible for the crisis, and she had every right to be furious with him.

Just before her return, he’d heard that John Kelly’s funeral would be held at once, even though Chakotay would not be well enough to attend. This was just the first part of his punishment, he told himself, an unspoken signal from the captain of the penalty he was going to pay. Janeway had been on her way to the ceremony and was wearing her dress uniform when she’d arrived in sickbay like a small tropical storm, creating an atmospheric disturbance severe enough to bring the EMH’s incessant chatter to an abrupt stop–he hadn’t even acknowledged her arrival in his realm.

“Commander,” she’d said in a voice that was dangerously soft, her eyes an icy grey, “when you’re released from sickbay tomorrow, come directly to the ready room. We have a matter of importance to address.”

He’d let out the breath he’d been holding. “Yes, Captain.”

She’d nodded, turned on her heel, and left sickbay without another word. The EMH had simply huffed and retreated to his office, unwilling to offer his patient the slightest hope of comfort or reassurance. He had listened to the ceremony over the intercom while the doctor administered to him, but he’d spent the bulk of the evening alone, drifting into and out of sleep.

Now, in the restless hours of night watch, he could think of nothing but the upcoming confrontation. There was nothing he could say in his defense. Both Tom and Seven had warned him in advance and had chastised him afterwards for his poor judgment, but their stinging words would not come close to the pain he’d feel during his captain’s forthcoming reprimand. He closed his eyes and groaned at the thought of facing her righteous indignation.

“Are you in pain?”

His eyes flew open at the sound of Janeway’s voice. He lifted his head slightly and saw her standing in the shadows just beyond the foot of the bed. “No, Captain, I’m just apprehensive. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I used the lab entrance, in case you were asleep. I didn’t want to awaken you.”

He tried to imagine why she had come. As angry as she must be, she would never reprimand him while he was still under the doctor’s care. Something else must be troubling her. “You’re up very late.”

“Tuvok and I split your bridge shift. I decided to check on you before I went to bed.”

He took a closer look. She was in her turtleneck and slacks, her captain’s pips and tunic already removed. He couldn’t see her feet, but she seemed shorter than usual. He imagined she had discarded her boots and was wearing the low-heeled slippers she preferred during her off-duty hours. If Tuvok had taken the second half of his bridge shift, she would have been off duty for over an hour, long enough to be in bed and fast asleep by now. He realized then that she had come from her quarters, not the bridge, and he felt a sudden overwhelming tide of guilt for causing her distress.

“I was wrong, Captain.”

She approached the side of the bed and shook her head. “We’ll deal with that in the morning, Chakotay.”

“You came to check on me?” he asked, bewildered. She’d used his name, not his rank; she was here as Kathryn, not as his captain. She stepped closer. He saw, for the first time, the tortured look in her eyes and realized that she was emotionally upset, not angry. “Kathryn, are you all right?”

“No, I’m not all right.” She closed her eyes and seemed to falter slightly. “Did it ever occur to you that we would have had to find a way to go on without you?”

“I . . . didn’t think.”

“Do you know how hard it is to watch people you care about die right before your eyes, to be powerless to rescue them? It breaks your heart,” she paused to catch her breath, looking away to hide the glint of tears in her eyes. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep on living when your heart is broken?”

He was so surprised at the anguish in her voice that he just stared at her for a few moments with his mouth open. He finally answered her, squinting slightly against a throbbing behind his eyes, “I didn’t think about dying. All I could think about was salvaging that probe.”

“I can understand how much you wanted to retrieve it. I’m sure the logs will be a fascinating addition to history and look forward to reading your analysis of them.”

“But I was wrong to risk our lives to salvage it.” He put his hand to his temple where the ache threatened to blossom into a headache.

“You are in pain,” she replied, stepping closer as she casually brushed her eyes with her fingertips. Her fingers were cool and damp with tears as she gently turned his head and checked the cortical monitor. “Do you need the doctor?”

“No, please, don’t activate him. I’m not in that much pain.”

Her eyes were calm and analytical as she glanced at the readings on the biobed and then back at him. The intimate moment had passed, he realized with despair. He wondered what was haunting her about this particular close call when there had been so many others just as terrifying. Perhaps it was just that this crisis would have been avoided if he had obeyed her orders.

“You need to time to recover, Chakotay. If you’re too tired when the doctor releases you in the morning, go to your quarters and get some rest, and we’ll address our problem once you’re feeling up to it.”

“Our problem. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather get it out of the way as soon as possible.”

“All right, but don’t worry about it now. Just concentrate on getting better. I need you.” With those words, she stepped away, but she had withdrawn emotionally moments earlier. He could hear the resignation in her voice as she headed for the door, pausing after they opened, but not looking back. “We’ll do what we have to do, Chakotay, just as we always do. We have no choice.”

Later that morning, he wondered how the woman who had visited him in sickbay could be the same person waiting for him in her ready room. He stepped into her private office and met a captain who was all fire and ice with none of the vulnerability or anguish he had seen just a few hours earlier. With Tuvok as witness, she stood Chakotay in front of her desk and proceeded to blister him with her wrath and resentment, her fury mounting each time he was unable to give her a legitimate reason for his insubordination.

She circled the desk and stopped right in front of him, looking up at him with blazing eyes. “Was it possible, Commander, that my order to leave the anomaly immediately was garbled in transmission?”

“No, Captain. I heard your order loud and clear.”

She looked away as she struggled to keep her temper, and then she turned to him again. “Can you offer me any reason that can justify your insubordination?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Were you under the assumption that the recovery of the Mars explorer was of greater importance than your lives? Or the safety of the Flyer?”

“No, Captain.”

“When Tom Paris and Seven of Nine warned you that the Flyer would be unable to escape with the probe in tow, did you misunderstand their warnings?”

“No, Captain, I did not.”

“So it was as they say.” She crossed her arms and stared to her right, out the window and into the stars that were streaming past the ship. He could see that she was trembling with rage and struggling to find her composure, and he simply awaited his fate. Finally she took a deep breath and looked up at him with defiance on her face.

“You leave me no choice, Commander. I cannot tolerate such disregard for the safety and well-being of our crew, not to mention the Flyer, and ultimately Voyager herself, especially not from my second in command. I will place a formal reprimand in your file, and you will be confined to quarters when off duty for the next thirty days.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He had decided from the beginning to accept his punishment, whatever it was, without comment, and this was an elegant solution. The reprimand would be a permanent reminder, and his confinement would be visible to the crew without creating a burden by making the captain and Tuvok work his shifts. He immediately made the offer that he knew protocol demanded from him. “Captain, if you’ve lost confidence in me as your first officer, then I respectfully tender my resignation.”

Her head snapped up, and she pointed at his chest as she answered, just for emphasis. “Oh, Commander, if I only had that luxury.” Tuvok’s eyes narrowed in satisfaction at his offer, but Janeway simply sighed. “But I can’t help but wonder what I would have done if I had been the one on the Flyer, . . . .” Her voice trailed off, and then she shook her head. “You were caught up in the heat of the moment, determined to see the recovery through to a successful conclusion. I understand your single-mindedness, even if I can’t excuse it.”

“I’ve apologized to Tom and Seven for risking their lives, and I deeply regret that I disappointed you, Captain.” His voice was full of emotion, but he wanted her to know how upset he was to have let her down. “I’m sorry for causing this trouble and for putting the ship in danger. I won’t let it happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t, Commander. Dismissed.” She faltered only briefly, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose before turning away as Tuvok escorted him from her office.

He walked slowly to his quarters, deep in thought. In the press of duty, in the blinding resolve to succeed in spite of the odds, one never thinks of the people being left behind. A hero’s courage is a momentary daring that often comes to an abrupt and lethal end. But Chakotay knew that it takes just as much courage, if not more, to find the durable bravery of survival, to live on with guilt and remorse for the rest of one’s days.

As painful as the Captain’s rebuke had been, the words that haunted him most were the ones Kathryn had said softly the night before: “Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep on living when your heart is broken?”

By the time he arrived at his quarters, he was dead on his feet. He peeled off his tunic, stumbled toward his bedroom, and then collapsed face down on the mattress, too tired to remove his boots. He drifted quickly toward sleep, wondering what heartbreak Kathryn had experienced that taught her so well the anguish of the survivor. Was it Voyager’s exile in the Delta Quadrant? Was it her fianc’s marriage? Her father’s death? Or was it a tragedy she had kept hidden in her past?

With a groan, he buried his face in his pillow and yawned. Whatever had happened, she had found a way to keep on living, and she had done so with typical Janeway courage and stoicism. Although he admired her indomitable spirit, he would never forget the despair and sadness he had heard in her voice the night before. Impossible as it seemed, Kathryn Janeway’s heart had been broken, and, as he drifted off to an exhausted sleep, Chakotay told himself that someday he would have to find out when and how it had happened.

The End