Ashes

By Drakkenfyre

Part 1

 

For once, Voyager was peaceful.  Unfortunately, peace was contrary to her adventurous Starfleet nature and conflicted Maquis heart.  A month had gone by since the last crisis or event and on the bridge the officers tried their best to stave off the boredom.

"So Tom, Harry, what do you two have planned for our next social event?" Captain Janeway asked.

Harry shrugged and Tom replied, "Well, Captain, we seem to have run out of ideas."

"We’ve worked on it," Harry justified, "but there doesn't seem to be anything that's sparked the crew's interest."

The captain turned to her first officer and asked, "Has Neelix submitted that report on crew morale?"

Quietly, he replied, "Yes and the news isn’t good.  The crew is having difficulty adjusting to long periods of inactivity."

"There's plenty of work to do," Janeway said with a frown.

"Yes, but all of it largely routine."  He lowered his voice even further; "Remember, Kathryn, the large Maquis contingent was never prepared to be away from home this long, and frankly, neither were most of the Starfleet crew members.  While we have set up peer support groups to help some of the crew deal with the stress, we don’t have a trained counselor on board."  Then, with his voice barely a whisper, "The loneliness is taking its toll."

Before she allowed herself to read too much into that statement, she replied, "Then let's run some battle drills.  Coordinate them with Commander Tuvok."

The silence on the bridge continued until a voice came over the comm system.

"Commander Tuvok," began a shaky and distressed voice, "it's Ensign Parker.  You'd better get down to deck 6.  And you should probably bring the captain."

 

 

A crowd had already gathered around the room, but they stepped aside when they saw their captain approaching.  They said nothing and not one of them could meet her eyes.  In single file Tuvok, Janeway, then Chakotay passed through the door.  What had happened was not immediately discernible.  There were four bunks in these quarters and the usual assortment of personal items strewn about.  A desk in the corner was cluttered with several pictures in frames and various personal mementos.  A small, central coffee table had exotic dried flowers that Janeway mused could have only come from one of the away missions.  Turning her attention to the area that a security officer was examining with a tricorder, she saw the sheets of two beds had been knotted together into a rope of sorts.  Janeway realized with horror what she was looking at.  Visibly shaken, she turned to her first officer, but he was oblivious to anything but the scene itself.

Tuvok broke the silence; "Ensign Parker, report."

A young man in uniform stood from his secluded chair in the corner.  His cheeks were red and his jaw was shaking.  "I—I responded to a call from Ensign… Ensign," he stopped to clear his constricted throat, "Ensign Safadi.  It was Ensign Kellerman.  We transported him to sickbay, but he was already dead."

"What about Ensign Safadi?  Where is she?" the captain asked.

"She's in sickbay, too.  They had to sedate her."  At that he began to sob.  "I'm sorry, Captain."

Chakotay signaled one of the bystanders to come over, then interjected, "There's no shame in crying, Mike."

The bystander whispered to him, "Come on, Mike, let's go back to your quarters," while leading him out of the room.

"Tuvok," Janeway said, "if you need me, I'll be in sickbay.  Commander, you're with me."  

 

 

They journeyed to sickbay in silence.  Chakotay gambled one look at Kathryn and saw that her usual tough exterior was not standing up as well as it usually did.  Though most could not discern the difference, he had come to know her well over the years.  He could feel the shale-covered slope she was on, but he knew she would not accept comfort, even from him.

The scene in sickbay was a troubling one.  Numerous young crewmembers took turns between sitting near a sleeping woman and crying over the body of the dead man.  Oblivious to everything but their pain, no one noticed their entrance, save the doctor.

"What happened?" Janeway asked, earnestly.

The Doctor paused, then began, "By the time he was transported here, it was too late.  Nikolas Kellerman had been… hanging for over two hours.  I'm sorry, Captain.  There was nothing to be done."

She turned to the doctor and asked, quietly, "Nothing to be done?"  Then louder, "Nothing to be done?  One of my crew is dead, but there was nothing to be done."

Dismissing the doctor, Janeway spared one last look at the body before spinning on her heels and leaving sickbay.

Chakotay wanted to pay his respects to the newly dead, but seeing Kathryn abandon the room, he decided that the needs of the living took precedence.  He could not see where she went, but he supposed that she would retreat to one of her sanctuaries to regroup and rebuild her defenses.

"Computer, location of Captain Janeway?"

"Captain Janeway is in turbolift one."

"Destination?"

"Bridge."

After a brief ride in the turbolift, he entered her ready room without ringing the chime.  Her chair was turned away from him.

"I'm assembling the senior staff in ten minutes," she stated, flatly.

"You can't just keep it inside, Kathryn," he said in gentle tones.

"There will be plenty of time for personal ruminations after we have dealt with this crisis, Commander."

Though he stung at her use of formalities, he continued, "You’re missing the point.  The personal is the crisis.”

"For your information, I am fine.  Now let's deal with the crew."  At that, she stood and walked out, leaving him behind.

 

 

The officers seated around the table were sullen and hesitant to speak.  Captain Janeway took the initiative and began; "As you already know, Ensign Nikolas Kellerman took his own life today.  I am both saddened and disappointed.   Disappointed in him for not seeking help.  Disappointed in my crew for not seeing the signs.  And disappointed in myself for not doing more.  This is only the tip of the iceberg.  It's time to delve beneath the surface.  Suggestions?"

The doctor was first to speak; "This crew has been under an incredible amount of strain over the years.  This sort of constant battering can wear down the best of us.  Ensign Kellerman was one of the original Starfleet officers on board, so I checked his file and by all accounts, he was a mentally and emotionally stable individual.  He formed secure and lasting relationships with his bunkmates and he participated in recreational activities.  But after a time, it seems, the strain became too great.

“Unfortunately, we do not have a counselor to help people deal with the problems that arise.  I can prescribe anti-depressants and other medications for certain individuals, but my limited psychological knowledge would only allow for a diagnosis and rudimentary treatment.  As was evidenced by this incident, some members of the crew require long-term counseling."

"Well, Doctor," the Captain ordered, "whatever it takes, I want every member of this crew to undergo a psychological evaluation.  Enlist any help you need.  Someone on this ship must have some training in psychology."

Her senior staff only looked at her in silent disbelief.

"Dismissed."

 

Part 2