Breaking Points

By Laura Schiller

Based on Star Trek: Voyager

Copyright: Paramount

"How is she?" Captain Kathryn Janeway asked softly.

"Recovering," replied the Doctor, showing her the scans from his medical tricorder. "See for yourself. She'll need to regenerate for a few more hours, but … she'll be fine."

"And how are you, Doctor?" she asked the involuntary cause of Seven's injuries. "Your program – did B'Elanna repair it?"

"Oh, yes." The Doctor's hollow eyes belied his casual-sounding voice. "Yes … I'm functioning within my normal parameters. For whatever that's worth."

They both looked up at the unconscious Seven of Nine, who appeared impossibly serene for someone who had been held captive and nearly suffered permanent brain damage.

"How can I ever face her again," he whispered, "After what I've done?"

That, Kathryn understood. In fact, she sympathized so deeply with the Doctor, it was all she could do not to shed tears herself. She took his elbow and guided him away from Seven's alcove, past the rows of cargo containers, giving them privacy – as if their friend, even in her unconscious state, might somehow sense the topic of their conversation.

"I read your report," she pointed out. "They altered your program. You had no control."

"I know!" he snapped. "That's not what I meant. I remember what it felt like – one moment I was myself, the next Ransom pushed a button and I … " He leaned against a shelf, rubbing his hand over his face. "I don't understand. I thought my ethical subroutines and my interactive protocols were supposed to be linked. What's one without the other?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this was Seven of Nine, Captain. My student, my singing partner, my … Ethical programming aside, how could I – how could any version of me – even think of violating her this way? But that's exactly what I did."

He glanced through the bars of a shelf at Seven's green-lit face and turned abruptly away.

"I remember her strapped to that table, with me manipulating her vocal processor so she could sing while I was cutting into her brain. I enjoyed it. Duets or medical horrors, it made no difference to me. I was a sociopath!"

"They made you a sociopath," Kathryn replied.

For a moment, the sick, cold fury that had gripped her since learning the truth of the Equinox crew threatened to resurface, thinking of this new crime added to their long and damning history. She fought it down with gritted teeth.

"I think you're forgetting, Doctor," she said, struggling to turn her defnsive anger into compassion, "That Seven's not the only one who was violated on that ship. Ransom and Burke forced you to follow their orders."

"You mean I was their tool. Their holographic puppet." The Doctor glared down at the mobile emitter on his arm: the symbol of his holographic nature, so easy to reprogram, leaving him at the mercy of anyone with enough technical skills.

"You were their victim," Kathryn argued. "It could have happened to anyone, hologram or not. If you were an organic being and they'd tortured you, or threatened you, wouldn't you have done the same?"

He rounded on her, brown eyes flashing.

"Never," he snarled. "Within my normal parameters, I would have died a thousand deaths before injuring a hair on Seven's head!"

His righteous indignation struck a nerve. He sounded like Chakotay: You almost killed that man back there. It was a bad call! Forgetting that her intention had been to counsel the Doctor, Kathryn drew herself up to her full height and glared right back.

"You don't know that." Her own voice, in contrast to his, was quiet and cold as steel. "Nobody can predict how they'll react. Under enough pressure, everybody breaks."

They were too near the spot where she had interrogated Lessing. Where she'd almost left him to the nucleogenic aliens for refusing to inform her of Ransom's tactical status. She had been so certain that he would break …

The Doctor's expression jolted her back from her memories into the present, as sharply as the screech of a broken sonic shower. This was the Doctor, not Lessing or Chakotay, and he was horrified and hurt. She had just snapped at a post-traumatic-stress victim. God, what was wrong with her?

"I'm sorry, Doctor," she said, reaching for his shoulder. "I shouldn't have said that."

He shrugged her off. "No, you're right. You're right. Everybody breaks. Some sooner than others, apparently."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Did he know about Lessing? About how she had relieved Chakotay of duty?

"Nothing. Only … " The Doctor wandered away along the aisle of shelves until Seven was in his sight again. This time, he did not look away.

"She didn't break, Captain," he sighed. "That's why we – I – they tried to extract Voyager's codes from her brain in the first place. Because Seven refused to tell them."

"Out of loyalty to her Collective."

"To you, Captain."

"To me … ?"

"Ransom took a shine to her, you know." The Doctor sneered at the name of his former captor. "He told her you weren't the only captain who could help her explore humanity. She looked down that classical nose of hers and declared him an inferior role model. You should have seen it."

From the moment Kathryn had given the order to keep Seven on Voyager, she had been deeply conscious of her duty to her charge: to support Seven on the road to individuality, to advise and comfort her, and above all, to lead by her own example. She had welcomed that duty, taken pride in it. It had never weighed as heavily on her shoulders as it did now. Seven's loyalty, so absolute and so very undeserved, broke Kathryn's heart.

It was her turn to pass a hand over her face, wiping away tears which even decades of command discipline could not prevent.

"Captain … ?"

"An inferior role model," she repeated bitterly. "How ironic."

"Captain, what do you mean? What's wrong?"

"Doctor." As he approached her with cautious concern, holding up his tricorder, she stopped him with a brusque motion of her hand. "What I'm about to tell you remains strictly within the bounds of doctor-patient confidentiality, is that clear?"

Rattled by her insistence on protocol, the Doctor raised his eyebrows as high as they could go.

"Why – yes, Captain."

"Good, because I have a confession to make. You're not the only one who hurt somebody they love during this disaster … but unlike you, I did it of my own free will."

The Doctor opened his mouth, then closed it, at the implication of his love for Seven, as if recognizing that denial would be pointless. Then he nodded.

"I swear on the grave of Dante Alighieri: your confession will not leave this room."

They shared sardonic smiles at the memory of her antique, hardcopy edition of La Vita Nuova, which she had lent to help him through the crisis of Ensign Jetal's death. The book, and her steady support as he fought out that battle with himself, had been her atonement for erasing his memories earlier. If she had seen the error of her ways once, she could do it again. If she could listen without judgment, so could he.

The whole sordid story came out in terse, fragmented bursts, as Kathryn paced around the cargo bay with the Doctor three steps behind. Confessing was easier without looking him in the eye. She was living it as she spoke: Lessing's shoulders trembling under her hands; the whites of his eyes flashing in his dark face; the cry of the aliens growing louder behind the doors. Chakotay's eyes as she relieved him of duty, dark as two black holes. What's happened to you, Kathryn?

"So you see, Doctor," she concluded, bracing herself against the wall with one hand and breathing deeply, as if her speech had been a marathon. "This is why I reacted badly to what you said just now. Everybody has their breaking point, the point where they're reducted to their very worst. I reached mine that day. I hated Ransom so much, I became just like him … and what's more, I punished the one man who cared enough to call me out, because I was too damn stubborn and angry to admit I was wrong."

She sat in silence, looking down at the tips of her shoes. She had polished them, along with showering and putting on a fresh uniform, at her first opportunity after Ransom's death and the explosion of the Equinox. Why did it still matter how she looked? I don't give a damn … this isn't about rules and regulations, Chakotay had snapped at her.

"Chakotay … " Her voice cracked. "How can I face him again after what I've done? … If anyone's become an inferior role model for Seven, I have."

The Doctor's hand appeared in her peripheral vision, silently offering to help her up. She grasped it and allowed him to pull her to her feet, until they were standing face to face. His face, carved out by both his creator's troubles and his own, was the kindest she had seen in a long time.

"Captain," he said, "I respectfully disagree."

"Regeneration cycle incomplete," said the computer.

"As do I," said Seven of Nine.

Kathryn whirled to face her. "I thought you were regenerating?"

"You should be," the Doctor accused, scanning her briskly and rolling his eyes at the results. "Seven, you need rest!"

"I programmed the cycle to coincide with my duty shift," Seven explained. "As for your conversation, my return to consciousness has been gradual. I only overheard the past two minutes."

"So you don't know the whole story?"

"I have sufficient knowledge of you, Captain," inclining her head ever so slightly in her mentor's direction, "to agree with the Doctor. I do, and always will, regard you as an example of the best of humanity."

Seven's manner was as cool as always, but Kathryn had learned over the past two years to read the younger woman's clear blue eyes. Respect, and even affection, shone behind them. She blinked hard to stop her own eyes from burning.

"But … why? When I'm so far from the perfection you're trying to achieve … "

"It is because you are far from perfect," Seven replied. "And yet, you recognize and learn from your mistakes. The difference between you and the Equinox crew is that they denied the immorality of their actions. Captain, if I can forgive the Doctor for actions he was coerced into performing - " The Doctor raised his head to give Seven a shaky smile. "And if you and the rest of this crew can forgive me for the many threats I have caused to Voyager's safety these past two years … surely Commander Chakotay will forgive you."

Yet again, Kathryn felt like crying. This time, she let the tears run down her face, like rain to wash away the dust of anger, pride and shame. By the time she recovered her voice, she was left with no idea of what to say.

The Doctor said it for her instead.

"It's good to see you safe, Seven. You can't imagine how relieved how I am … but for now, I really must insist that you regenerate for at least another five hours."

"Doctor - " Seven protested.

"You've been through a trying ordeal." He put one hand on Kathryn's shoulder, the other (with a slight hesitation) on Seven's. "We all have. What we need now is some time to refuel, and in your case," darting a glance at her alcove, "I mean that literally."

"Listen to him, Seven," Kathryn added, smiling. "Captain's orders."

Seven turned from one to the other, twitching her eyelids, as if tempted to raise her eyes to the ceiling in fond exasperation. Then she turned away to reprogram her alcove.

"I will comply," she told them over her shoulder.

"And please report to Sickbay when you're finished?"

Since Seven's eyes were already closed by the end of the Doctor's sentence, it was doubtful whether she would follow that request. Kathryn shook her head. One moment, the insights of her protegée would astonish her, the next moment, she'd behave just like a contrary young girl.

"By the way, Captain, what I said goes double for you," said the Doctor, shaking a finger in Kathryn's direction as they exited the cargo bay together. "You've been running on coffee and adrenaline all day. Don't think I can't tell."

"Later, Doctor."

He rolled his eyes.

"I promise. But first, I have a meeting that can't wait."

"Not even until alpha shift?"

"Not even then. I … I need to have a talk with my First Officer." Before I lose my nerve, she almost said. Surely Commander Chakotay will forgive you … but what if he didn't? In any case, she had to try.

As they reached a junction in the corridor, just before going their separate ways, she stopped him with a touch on the arm.

"Doctor … "

"Yes?"

"Thank you."