Note** Past incidents of Janeway’s life were based on Jeri Taylor’s book ‘Mosaic’.

 

                                                                              Fighting the Darkness
                                                                                  S. Y. Thompson

 

Hot brown liquid shot painfully out of her nose to spray the front of her companion before Kathryn Janeway could raise a hand to belatedly cover her face. Seven of Nine seemed to barely register the coffee that spread across the front of her plum colored bio-suit as she turned her head to see what had the captain so amused.

 

They had been sitting at their favorite table in the mess hall attempting to eat Neelix’s latest concoction. The burgundy mound hadn’t seemed quite dead as it wriggled insistently on the plate. Tom Paris had opted for blowing a few replicator rations instead which led to the scene that had Janeway and the rest of the crew present laughing until they were holding their sides in pain.

 

The young man had requested his dinner but instead of it materializing sedately on a plate, the replicator had spewed it all over him. Covered in mashed potatoes, corn, meatloaf, and with gravy dripping off his chin he could only stand and stare at the malevolent technology with his arms raised in indignation.

 

The first to recover and come to the pilot’s aid with a towel, although still chuckling, Neelix had managed to ask, "Tom, are you all right?"

 

Suddenly realizing that he had quite an audience that was having a good laugh at his expense, he replied sharply, "Yeah…just great." Grabbing the towel he roughly wiped at his face before asking, "What’s wrong with this thing?"

 

With Neelix promising to have the replicator looked at, most of the crew had gone back to their dinners, the incident all but forgotten. Seven had turned to look at Janeway questioningly, and Kathryn quickly readied herself for the endless barrage of questions that would undoubtedly ensue.

 

"Captain, I fail to understand why having Mr. Paris’ dinner deposited in his face has elicited such a humorous response."

 

Kathryn thought she had her mirth under control but Seven’s words recreated the event in her mind, and she snorted again before she could contain herself. Confusion reigned in Seven’s gaze, and Kathryn managed to gain control of her emotions. "Sorry," she had said raising a hand, but her eyes still sparkled suspiciously.

 

"How can you find this amusing?" Seven pressed curiously. Human emotions were certainly confusing at the best of times.

 

Searching for the words to explain, Kathryn could only say, "To be honest, I think it’s the sheer unexpectedness of what happened. It’s reminiscent of an ancient form of Earth humor called slapstick." When that statement failed to generate comprehension in her companion’s eyes, she tried again. "Seven, people laugh at that kind of thing because they can see it happening to them. It’s a way of depersonalizing the experience."

 

After visibly processing the information for a second or two, the former drone finally replied, "I see."

 

To the captain, it was clear that Seven did not see, and stymied she took a deep breath. "I guess sometimes humor just can’t be explained," Kathryn said sadly. "You either get it or you don’t."

 

Finally hearing something that she could agree with, Seven nodded and replied, "Indeed."

 

Finishing her meager dinner, the blonde had rested her fork on her plate and pinned blue-gray eyes with her own intense gaze. "I have now consumed my nutritional supplement, and must proceed to the cargo bay."

 

"What’s your hurry?" Kathryn asked afraid that she had somehow offended her young friend.

 

Seven pointedly looked down at her suit before meeting the other woman’s curious expression. "I must change," she said with a glint in her eyes. "I am…damp."

 

An image of coffee spraying through her nose rose again in Kathryn’s mind and a blush covered her cheeks as her companion rose to her feet and gracefully left the mess hall.

 

Was it her imagination, or had Seven been teasing her?

 

"Maybe she understands humor better than she lets on," Kathryn had mused aloud.

 

With a strange combination of embarrassment and pleasure at Seven’s unexpected show of humor, she had finished her solitary meal. Leaving the mess hall a short time later, Kathryn wondered momentarily if anyone had figured out what was wrong with the replicator. The thought did cross her mind that the crew had just enjoyed a leisurely shore leave on a small moon with a species known as the Impara a few weeks before, and spirits were still high. It was possible that someone was just playing a practical joke on the young man. There was no doubt in her mind that he had played enough of them on a few unsuspecting crewman to warrant someone trying to get their own back at him.

 

That had been ninety-six hours ago, and the incident that had begun so humorously had generated very serious consequences. Systems on board Voyager had begun shutting down, and/or malfunctioning steadily ever since. The crew scrambled madly to figure out what was affecting their systems so devastatingly, but to no avail. Finally, that moment arrived that every Starfleet Captain dreaded; that moment when the order to abandon ship had to be given.

 

Environmental controls had begun to fail, and with no way to halt the degradation an indoor nebula had begun to form on the lower decks. With no way to stop it, it would eventually spread throughout the rest of the ship. Tuvok had suggested leaving a skeleton crew in environmental suits to continue their efforts, but Janeway had vetoed him without second thought. She had retreated into her ready room to grapple with her demons and come to a decision that made her feel as though her soul was being torn from her body.

 

"Captain’s log," she said hollowly, staring at the simulated wood grain of her desk, "Stardate 51265.4. Power surges in the warp core destroyed the power grid this morning. Thankfully, there were no casualties, but the replicator system was badly damaged leaving the crew with only the emergency rations. As a result the situation has gotten a little worse. Environmental controls continue to fail. Nine decks have been rendered uninhabitable. Quarters are close, nerves are frayed, and I’m not sure what’s more difficult to maintain, crew morale, or Voyager’s systems. With that in mind, I’ve come to the only decision I can in good conscious make. I will order the crew to abandon ship." 

 

Taking a deep shuddering breath, the courageous woman ended the long entry, and resolutely standing. Squaring her shoulders, she prepared to walk onto the bridge and give the order.

 

Voyager had passed an idyllic M-class planet a few days before, and she would not endanger her crew when she didn’t even know if there was a solution to the ship’s dilemma. In escape pods it would take the crew approximately a week to reach the planet. The captain had decreed that she would stay on board and continue in the repair effort. No amount of argument would sway her from her decision.

 

Kathryn knew she was once again attempting to over-compensate for stranding her crew in the Delta Quadrant in the first place, but she refused to dwell on the matter. Standing in the glow of emergency lighting on the bridge without her jacket, shirtsleeves rolled up, and hands resting rakishly on her hips, Janeway tilted her head and steeled herself to say the words.

 

"Attention all hands, this is the Captain. More than half of our systems have failed, and we’ve lost nine decks. Life support is nearly gone. Voyager can no longer sustain its crew. You will proceed to the escape pods, and evacuate this vessel," she ordered in a gravelly voice. "Lay in a course for heading 116 mark 3. With any luck, Voyager will be repaired in a few days, and will rendezvous with you then when we will continue our journey home. I expect to find you all well, and with some interesting stories to tell."

 

Almost in disbelief the bridge crew filed through the turbolift doors. Harry and Tom seemed to hesitate slightly before moving to the rear of the command center, but Kathryn noticed that Chakotay didn’t pause for a moment. Perhaps he was looking forward to taking command of the crew, no matter from where.

 

"Tuvok, I know what you’re going to say," Janeway informed the stoic Vulcan. She could feel him standing steadfastly at his station without the need to turn around. "I’ve made up my mind, so don’t waste time."

 

"Logic would dictate that you require a second in command should you become incapacitated," he argued calmly with his hands folded behind his back.

 

That did make her turn around, and she cast a grateful smile his way. "Perhaps," she allowed. "But logic would also dictate that if we’re unsuccessful in repairing Voyager then we’d both be dead. The crew, however, still needs a tactical officer, especially on an unknown planet. I’m trusting you to keep them safe."

 

For a moment it looked as though he was going to argue, but then he simply turned away leaving Seven of Nine as the only other person on the bridge besides the captain. The young blonde walked over to stand directly in front of her superior officer. She had that stubborn set to her face that Kathryn had become extremely familiar with when the young woman had first come on board Voyager. The look, along with accompanying frown, said she was not going to follow ‘illogical’ protocol, and Kathryn prepared herself for an argument that she had to win. To her immense surprise and relief, Seven merely cocked her head and nodded once.

 

"Captain," she said in a voice that implied respect for the decision, even if she didn’t necessarily understand it. Ice-blue eyes gazed intently into the captain’s own, and Kathryn began to feel uncomfortable at the probing stare. For an instant, she felt as though Seven was looking into her soul, and something electric flashed between them.

 

Oh my God, she’s going to kiss me, Kathryn thought in complete panic.

 

Then Seven turned and left the bridge, leaving her captain slightly light-headed from the panic that had gripped her. Kathryn chastised herself for letting her fantasies get out of hand. A few moments later sensors indicated that all but one escape pod had left Voyager’s hull.

 

Kathryn knew the last pod had been left for her own use should repairs prove to be beyond her abilities, but she also knew that she wouldn’t use it. No matter what the outcome.

 

***********

Kathryn had been stuck in the relay room on deck fifteen for the last nine hours. She had taken refuge along the perimeter of a nebula, hoping that the gas from the anomaly would mask the ship from any would be scavengers while she tried to make repairs. But every time she repaired a series of relays, ten more would fail. She was beginning to wonder if it was possible to repair the damage at all. To make matters worse, she was no closer to finding out what caused the degradations in the systems in the first place.

 

A familiar feeling began washing over the slender woman…failure. As she sat alone in the quiet of the ship, the token representation of the humanity that had lived on the vessel for years, her heart began growing cold. It seemed like her life had been a series of such occurrences. One major obstacle after another that had left a mark on her soul, showing her that she was hopelessly fighting against a defeat that would come to pass no matter how valiantly she struggled against it.

 

The first such incident had happened when she was a mere child, and continued at devastatingly regular intervals until they had culminated in what she considered the worst decision of her life. Forgetting for a moment that she was trying to accomplish a task, Kathryn let the spanner dangle in her hand.

 

Remembering the first incident in an endless string, she wondered what she had been thinking; walking home after a lost tennis match in a driving thunderstorm. She had bragged before the match that she would win easily. When she had lost, her pride had been so wounded that she had felt she didn’t deserve to ride home with the others.

 

Condemning herself to walk the ten kilometers in the turbulent weather, she had become disoriented and lost. Exhausted, she had felt the need to lie down and never move again. Her father had found her.

 

"Stupid," she muttered, berating herself again even after more than twenty years after the fact. She still felt the sting of failure and wounded pride from losing that game. If she hadn’t taken her opponent for granted, she would have won. She should have won. But instead of learning from her mistake, she had continued to make the same one over and over again.

 

Shaking her head, Kathryn picked up the spanner and began splicing relays back together, fighting the depression that was urging her to give up. She had given in to that depression many times over the years, and it had rendered her powerless, wanting only to lie down and sleep, and for the rest of the world to go away. She refused to give in to the dark comfort of that embrace now. Her crew needed her to accomplish her goal. They were counting on her.

 

"Computer, status of internal relay network?" she prompted a short time later, and was pleased when she was informed that they were operating at optimal efficiency.

 

Standing in satisfaction she placed her hands on her hips and stretched, feeling the pop of overtired joints. In need of caffeine, Kathryn decided she had earned a break. It was now late into what should have been gamma shift and she hadn’t eaten in hours. Still not hungry, she requested a cup of coffee from the replicator.

 

"Unable to comply," the computer responded. "Replicator systems are still off-line."

 

"That’s just great," Kathryn grumbled. "I wonder if Neelix left anything out in the kitchen."

 

Leaving the bowels of the ship, she tried o take the turbolift to deck five, but discovered that those systems had failed while she’d been busy. Leaving her with no choice, but to make the ten deck climb to the mess hall or forget about getting anything to refresh herself. Heaving a disgruntled sigh, she decided that coffee would have to wait. Getting back to work, she asked the computer to perform another internal diagnostic.

 

Just as she made her request, all of the lights went out. A second later the dim glow of emergency lighting came on, lining the bulkheads. "Oh, this just keeps getting better and better," she groused as the computer attempted to report.

 

"Waarninngg…a series oof gelll packs has faaillled on deck twelllve sec..ction twwwooo."

 

Shaking her head, Kathryn muttered, "The computer sounds like it could use a stimulant."