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.