PART TWO: COURT-MARTIAL
He never came.
Chakotay had sent an urgent communiqué that he was unable to attend the hearings. He had been called away suddenly to Dorvan V on urgent business. He and Annika cut short their visit to her aunt in Sweden and left directly for his homeworld. Kathryn knew Chakotay had been deeply troubled by the sudden turn of events. Torn between duty to his homeworld and attending the hearings of his best friend, she wondered if Chakotay appreciated the irony of the situation. The tables were turned. He had to leave. It was his duty. Still, his abject apology seemed genuine.
"I can't tell you how sorry I am…"
"Don't worry about me, then, will you?" she told him. "I know that you wanted to be here. Whatever it is must be serious."
"They haven't told me what it is, Kathryn, but yes, I have to go immediately. I'm so very sorry not to be there to support you."
"Chakotay, a week from now, I will look back and say 'it's over'. Whatever happens during the next few days will then have been concluded and I suppose I proceed with my life from there, whether it's in a prison or as a free person. I can't duck out of this. I don't want to."
"You have to defend your actions to them, Kathryn. Actions we all know were justified."
"I don't know on what specific events they will focus, so in that respect I'm in the dark. I don't have time to run through seven years of decisions I made on Voyager."
"I'm so sorry, Kathryn. I've requested from Admiral Paris that he keep me updated."
"Thank you. I feel a little better now."
But she didn't. Chakotay and Annika left for Dorvan. She was alone again.
They packed the court like bloodhounds – men and women of Starfleet who wanted to see the legendary Captain Janeway answering for her actions on a vessel seventy thousand light-years away from home, in hostile surroundings, fighting for survival, with single-mindedness and great authority binding her crew and guiding them home. Did they want to see her squirm under scrutiny or were they just plain curious to see her or, more unflatteringly, see the woman who was jilted by her first officer?
I am happy, can't you see that?
The admirals stared her down as though she had committed every single Federation infraction possible in the Delta Quadrant. The Prime Directive was held up like the bible it was, thumped at every emphasized syllable during the proceedings. She imagined she couldn't hear them and watched the mouths open and close, the hands flailing, the bible punched, her iniquities heightened and laid bare.
Admiral Owen McKenzie Paris was going to deliver his summation in her defence…
She missed Chakotay like her very breath, missed his quiet strength, his protection. She missed his dimpled smile that would more often than not cheer her up. Chakotay was gone. So was every officer who had served under her on Voyager. They were never called to speak for her and she wondered idly whether they would have allowed Chakotay to speak had he been present. She was distracted, distraught, on edge many times. Every moment was taken up by the voices of the admirals in her head, the piercing, silent conversations, the denials, the referrals, the confutation of allegations, the facts of other charges to which she had to accede and pit all her wit against five men and women who seemed to want to destroy her.
She saw Mark, just a flitting image as he moved from his seat and left the room. During the debriefings she had met him in the square and even then he had been uncomfortable. His wife wasn't with him on that day, but she had seen a man with him, a man with a shock of white hair. If Mark meant for her to meet his companion, the way the stranger reacted made her think she had grown ten moles and hair on her upper lip. Mark had apologised, never said who the stranger was and then proceeded to feel responsible that he'd let her down.
At the court-martial, his brief appearance made her wonder why he even bothered to be present.
He looked more guilty than sympathetic. He had married someone else, hadn't he? Why this particular safety net had to feel guilty was beyond her. Men and women got on with their lives, sought new outlets, explored other dimensions and avenues and left their former lovers behind. He had left her behind. That was that. Whether she continued to languish in her despair or not, she was forced to accept the reality that he had gotten on with his life, whatever the richness or lack of it was to him.
When he rose, she had given a sigh, feeling momentarily dejected and rejected then pulled herself together and watched him leave. He was a busy philosopher who mused over life's quirks and pondered with other philosophers how new worlds could be incorporated into the Federation with little fuss. She pictured them sitting on grassy green knolls with sheep grazing blissfully, unaware of any turmoil. While Mark Johnson philosophised, the Federation had been engaged in two major wars in the last ten years.
A modern Arcadia.
Mark went. The man who had been with him and sat in a corner stayed a few minutes longer, though he too moved in the mists that had become the constant haze through which she walked. Despite his hair, he appeared to be only in his mid-forties. One more of the curious bunch who came to see her grilled by Starfleet.
On one level she knew exactly what she was doing - a real world and its activities superimposed upon the far more foggy underbelly of movement. She walked like an automaton, responded intensively to all charges, but at yet another level, she was hardly aware that she was in fact right in their faces. She hit back, clawed, challenged and counter-challenged.
Her head wanted to burst. Once again she was searching for an elusive tree against which she could bang her head and let the collective pus ooze out of her. The thick, slimy substance into which all questions, demands, directives, accusations, challenges, counter-challenges and sentences congealed, filled her up and wouldn't leave, not even as wet, drenching, soul-refreshing tears that could seep from her eyes and burn rivers of pain and frustration down her cheeks.
"Captain Janeway…" began the first salvo from Admiral Hays.
You destroyed the Caretaker's Array and locked an entire homeworld in darkness, a selfish act from which no one benefited, least of all Voyager and its crew.
Was that how they viewed it?
Whether we liked it or not, Admiral Hays, we became involved when under attack by the Kazon. The Ocampans were under serious threat. We protected them –
You mean you
protected them, Captain Janeway.
I stand alone. Yes, I sought to protect them by destroying the array. The Prime Directive was not violated. We became involved. Ocampa could be saved –
It was the only way home for Voyager and her crew. It was a decision with far-reaching consequences. Voyager could have been back weeks later instead of seven years, or thirty years.
We saved thousands of Ocampa. Their world would have been destroyed by the Kazon who were after a commodity we treat here so lightly: water. Yes, a homeworld or a race that had water controlled the balance of power.
Captain Janeway, you acted without consulting your senior officers, in a decision that affected your crew and stranded them in the Delta Quadrant for what would have been seventy five years..
As the commanding officer of a Starfleet vessel, I may make decisions for my crew in circumstances such as the destruction of the Caretaker's array warranted. It shifted the balance of power among the various Kazon sects and indeed in the neighbouring sectors of Ocampa.
We do not question the prudence of your decision, Captain, but are merely establishing the veracity of your convictions in making such a decision.
I understand, Admiral Hays.
Thank you, Captain Janeway.
Breathe deeply, Janeway, breathe deeply. The war is inside you; master your emotions and keep the oozing pus at bay.
Captain Janeway, a more serious allegation is one of murder…
She murdered someone?
In the case of a Voyager crew member called Tuvix
Was that how they viewed it?
Was it necessary to eliminate Tuvix in order to retrieve two crewmembers?
You have read my reports.
We have indeed, Captain Janeway. They tell of a sentient half Vulcan, half Talaxian biped created through a transporter accident.
Yes. It was a necessary act through which Neelix, the Talaxian and Tuvok, my Chief of Security, could be restored.
Captain Janeway, two species merged, albeit through an accident, in a symbiotic genesis, creating an entirely unique being who called himself Tuvix. That constitutes a lifeform able to make decisions and become a functionary on your ship.
How
could she argue that?
It also meant that two members of my crew died in the process.
With respect, Captain Janeway, they did not die, but fused into one being.
It had to be done. The crew missed their two colleagues and despite the contribution Tuvix made, making the decision to split him into my two missing officers was necessary.
Yet your reports indicate that you accepted Tuvix as a self-aware, fully functional and active, working member of the crew of your vessel, with the unique qualities of the Talaxian Neelix and the Vulcan Tuvok.
I needed two valued crew, one who formed the backbone of my senior staff, without whom much of my office would have been compromised in later years.
Yet Tuvix pleaded for his life, Captain Janeway. You cannot refute that. Could you look him in the eyes and tell him he had to die?
<<I died myself having to end his existence. I
had nightmares for months afterwards. You won't find that in the official
logs.>>
A life not even the ship's sentient hologram wanted to take. He was bound by the Hippocratic oath. By what oath were you bound?
My position as the commanding officer and the authority vested in my rank to make such a decision, however unpalatable it was. When no one would do it, it was left to me.
Something you didn't have to do?
Admiral Hays, Nechayev… Both officers have had no recollection of having lived inside the person of Tuvix. The memories of Tuvix for the short period he existed were negated the moment I restored Neelix and Tuvok. It was knowing this that gave me the reason to do what I did. There was therefore no loss, such as mourning the death of a loved one.
<<But
I died. I mourned…>>
It was the most difficult decision I have ever had to make, Admiral Nechayev.
Noted, Captain Janeway.
Captain Janeway, do
you recall that you made the following statement during the incident of the USS
Equinox, "I am going to hunt
him down no matter how long it takes - no matter what the cost."
Was that how they saw it?
The second General Order of the Prime Directive states that –
I know what the Prime Directive states, Admiral Gordon. Captain Ransom killed lifeforms to ensure the survival of his crew and vessel in their endeavours to reach home. What he did was a violation of that directive.
And Captain
Janeway set herself up as the judge and executioner of an officer who, while he
violated a Prime Directive, only wanted to get his crew home, the same as
Voyager and her commanding officer. You stated clearly that you would
hunt him down no matter what the cost. What was the cost, Captain Janeway? That
some of your crew were harmed, or even if it meant killing Ransom in the
process? Doesn't that act alone constitute a violation of such a directive?
I
crossed the line. You don't know of my months' long insomnia, so bad that my
First Officer had to take over my shifts.
May I point you to General Order 30: The primary responsibility of the commander of any Starfleet vessel or installation is the welfare and safety of his crew, including any civilian members. No action may be taken that creates an unwarranted threat to the safety of those individuals under the officer's charge, except in the line of duty and when otherwise unavoidable.
Captain Janeway, how did you interpret this rule when you hunted down Captain Ransom?
Admiral Gordon, Captain Ransom abused this directive, twisting it to suit him. In his own words he said, "In the event of imminent destruction a captain is authorised to preserve the lives of his crew by any justifiable means." By any justifiable means, gentlemen, which he used as justification in killing lifeforms for his own ends. I meant to stop him from continuing this evil practice and give those lifeforms the assurance that Voyager and her crew meant them no harm. I accept that I put my ship and crew at risk. I crossed the line, Admiral Gordon. It has not given me any peace in the years following.
Noted,
Captain Janeway.
Do you know how many times you have placed Voyager and her crew at risk, therefore violating general order 30?
You
do not say anything, Captain? Shall I tell you? Sixty three times. That is
besides other orders violated by you.
We were in a quadrant never before visited by any Federation vessel, Admiral Nechayev. Every world we passed, paused, visited or touched, presented to us the unknown. I did what I did in order that my crew would survive.
Therefore you were no better than Captain Ransom.
I make no such claims.
Well, I can see how you would take your vessel, hunting the Kazon to save one child and then losing your ship to the enemy. Yes, I can see that. How do you interpret the words of Spock when he said "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one, or the few"?
How many times hadn't she run after something or someone to save that person or child at the cost of great personal sacrifice and risk to her crew? Didn't the crew violate her own direct orders when they returned to New Earth to rescue Voyager's commanding officers? Didn't she lose Voyager after trying to rescue Chakotay's child by Seska, only to find that the baby was never Chakotay's? She would willingly have remained in the Void and closed the wormhole from inside after Voyager slipped through, taking a shuttle and making the two year journey out of the dark expanse. She'd almost killed Tom Paris. God, and Kashyk… Joe Carey didn't have to die. She had risked Voyager to retrieve Seven of Nine… Yes, she had risked her ship, the safety of her crew.
Admiral Gordon, Spock sacrificed his life to save many others in circumstances that would have destroyed the USS Enterprise. Perhaps to his ordered mind, a quantitive unit against which he measured the quality of his life seemed more logical and therefore acceptable. He would die to save ten others. I don't believe he considered how valued his own life and work was, how important his contribution to Starfleet and the Federation. Therefore, he may have been ethically wrong in sacrificing his life.
What about you, Captain Janeway?
I would die if it meant saving just one member of my crew.
Noted, Captain Janeway.
Admiral Owen McKenzie Paris, in his summation for the defence:
I doubt any of you can even begin to grasp the enormity of the task Captain Janeway had of bringing her crew home. You have all learnt that Voyager was not the only vessel shunted into the Delta Quadrant by the displacement wave. There is a defining difference between the objectives of Captain Janeway and Captain Ransom. While both needed their crews to survive against all known odds, Captain Kathryn Janeway didn't kill alien lifeforms and use them to steer her vessel home. She risked all in every situation they faced and every time, with unbelievable loyalty, her fearless crew distinguished themselves with honour and courage in the way they rallied with and around her to achieve their collective safety. She lost many crew and suffered for it, but never let it be said that Kathryn Janeway didn't once place herself out of harm's way to save her own skin. She has, time and time again, made sacrifices no other commanding officer in Starfleet has been called on to make.
For seven long years, years in which we all thought Voyager and her crew were dead, her world was dark and unknown. But I say to you all: Captain Janeway lit up the Delta Quadrant for the good of the Federation. We reap the results of exploration which Captain Janeway and her valiant crew prepared for us. They were the true voyagers, the pioneers, the explorers who opened vast, unfamiliar regions so that we could gain a glimpse of a galaxy closed to us. In the process she lost crew, in the process she made innumerable sacrifices.
Captain Janeway had no chain of command, no directives from Starfleet other than the original purpose of Voyager's journey into the Badlands. How could it be expected of her to chain herself to Federation Protocols when Voyager was so far away? Lost? Captain Janeway was the highest ranking Starfleet officer in the Delta Quadrant. Whatever decisions she made for her ship and her crew, including destroying the Caretaker's array was done with no higher authority to guide her in making those decisions.
You have all studied the logs and reports. You can see for yourselves how many times Captain Janeway entered into the logs that the Federation's laws and the Prime Directives were the only laws that could guide them and keep them, and by upholding these laws, Captain Janeway's crew became an exemplary one.
Judge her not by the decisions she made to keep her crew alive, but by the hundreds of selfless, heroic acts through which Captain Janeway upheld the law and distinguished herself as one of the finest officers in Starfleet.
****
She could smile, accept the handshakes of Admiral Hays, Admiral Gordon, Admiral Nechayev, the toughest of them all during the trials.
…And all circumstances considered, we find Captain Janeway not guilty and exonerate her from all blame and charges levied against her…
The words flew about her head. Owen Paris turned to her, his eyes kind, yet fierce in their defence of her. She sagged gratefully against his giant chest when he pulled her close to congratulate her.
"It's over, Kathryn. They tested you, don't you know? They put you through hell this week and now they will reward you by giving you a promotion you deserve."
"Thank you, Admiral Paris."
"You're welcome, Kathryn Janeway. If it hadn't been for you, I might never have seen my granddaughter growing up. Now I have that privilege. I owe you everything. You saved Tom."
She stood away from him. Inside she was shivering. She needed to sleep; she needed to swim out on a shore with soft sand and lie there without ever having to think again.
"Kathryn?"
When he called her by her name, she stood away from him, disturbed by the concern in his voice.
"I'll take up Starfleet's offer of a vacation before assuming my duties as Admiral Janeway, sir…"
"No need to be formal with me, young lady. By the way, you handled yourself brilliantly, as I knew you would. But you do need a break. You're a little under the weather."
It was a colossal understatement. She nodded, smiling brightly.
"Don't worry about me, Admiral Paris. I want to get away, from the media, you understand?"
"Completely. Just don't vanish, will you?"
She raised her hand and gave a little chuckle.
"Scouts honour. I promise to behave."
"Where will you go?"
"Now that, sir, is classified."
She waited until he left before she dropped her guard, breathing deeply, feeling the constriction and sharp pain in her chest as she did so. She frowned, remembering she hadn't slept properly in five days, hadn't eaten anything except to drink large amounts of coffee. The voices came back, entire conversations that moved into position inside her brain, readying themselves for the triggers to start them off. Her hands trembled as they touched her cheeks, warm and flushed from total fatigue and stress.
I
must get away from here…
******************************
END PART TWO
PART THREE: SHE FLIES WITH HER OWN WINGS"