Neelix proved to be a better mediator than any of them would have given him credit for. The Talaxian had a natural flair for diplomacy, and it was obvious that he relished this responsibility by the tone in which he conducted his opening remarks. Respectful of both parties but calmly grave at the same time, he began, I think we need to be reminded that this ship is our home, no matter what happens here today, and that any form of violence can easily bring harm to Voyager, and we don't want that. No, not at all. Also, there is a young child sleeping only three decks above us at this moment and we are all responsible for her safety and peace of mind. Now, with that said, I think it would be a good idea for everybody to just be honest about the weapons you're all trying to hide from each other and take this time to drop them on the floor. Neelix smiled benignly as scores of his fellow crew mates stared at him with blank looks. However, not a single phaser appeared. Go on, drop them, he ordered again, his tone still amiable. I know you have them, so you might just as well make this easier on everybody and admit to it. For instance, even from here I can see the outline of Ensign Chell's -

The unmistakable sound of a phaser scraping the sides of a holster made Neelix swallow his words and jump in spite of his apparent calm. A second, identical sound instantly followed. One breath later, sixty-two phasers and various personal weapons were on display, though nobody quite seemed to know which direction to point them.

Janeway sent a glance at Tuvok, and with the barest of nods indicated that they should follow Neelix's instructions. In a show of faith that she hoped would not be her first foolish mistake of the night, the captain bent down and gently laid her phaser on the cargo bay's corrugated flooring. When she raised her eyes, Ensign Carr was doing the same not three feet away. Their eyes met for a moment, and Janeway suddenly comprehended that her chief adversary was this angry, frightened young woman. If she could convince the ensign of the dangers of this standoff, she felt sure the rest of the crew would follow.

Lauren, surely you can understand what this is going to do to the crew. Let's not allow our own -

No, Janeway. It's too late for that. It's too late for everything! Lauren hissed between clenched teeth, so angry that she clearly had trouble speaking at all.

Janeway was taken aback by the strength of the woman's emotions. She was unprepared to deal with so much obvious hatred. For the tenth time in the last five minutes, she wished Chakotay was standing next to her, available to offer his help. Once again she recognized how much she needed him and his unique abilities, and silently and aggressively cursed her shortsightedness. Because of it, the chances of people getting hurt had just escalated. Very well. We'll do this the hard way, she answered Ensign Carr's statement, unable to keep the animosity out of her own voice now. That's fine with me.

Carr's expression of hate deepened, and Kathryn knew that speaking at all had been her first mistake of the night, and speaking again had been her second. Without another word, the ensign turned on her heels and marched away to stand with the rest of the Group members surrounding Commander Chakotay. With a sigh the captain rose as well, retaining her place next to Neelix and Joe Carey. When quiet again settled on the gathering, the meeting began.

It was interesting, she thought numbly to herself fifteen minutes later, how one can easily grow disconnected from proceedings such as this meeting that were so personally damning in nature. Neelix was in the process of systematically calling on any crewmember with the desire to speak, and in addition to the Group's original claims of injustice, they now voiced complaints, gripes, and grudges as if each were a brutal crime deliberately perpetrated by Captain Janeway just to make the lives of her crew unbearable. There was no hope of advancement, someone reported. Janeway enforced Starfleet's rules too harshly. Starfleet was too rigid a life-style for a situation such as Voyager's where their workplace was their home as well. The captain had all but kidnapped Seven of Nine from the only home she'd ever known and attempted to form the Borg in her own deified image.... A lengthy list continued to grow. The picture being created was one of a corrupt, self-absorbed maniac intent on subjugating every living person under her command. Chakotay had been right, she mused dispassionately, this was not pleasant. Not pleasant at all.

The crowd went on speaking, their complaints gathering steam, though Neelix had maintained admirable control over the upheaval so far. Still, he had not allowed her to reply in any way, and as the meeting wore on, her stamina began to fail. She had to force air through her damaged lungs in shallow breaths, and even with the noise in the cargo bay, she could hear the wheeze of each exhalation. Her lungs were beginning to hurt, but the physical discomfort was far less harmful than the words she was hearing. By concentrating on her injuries, she was able to keep her growing personal distress pushed to the far corners of her conscience, where she could control it. She breathed in, wheezed for a second, and breathed out, then repeated the calming action over and over again, determined not to give in to the seduction of despair.

Eventually her feet started to fall asleep inside her newly replicated boots, and she surreptitiously bent her knees to relieve the pressure after standing in one place for so long. Then, unable to stop herself, she glanced in Chakotay's direction. He was still encircled, still a prisoner, his arms still crossed tightly on his chest. His eyes were trained on the floor, with a barely visible expression of distaste and regret frozen on his face. He slowly shook his head, as if in amazement or agreement at what he was hearing. She couldn't tell from her position across the bay.

Look! someone shouted then, capturing everybody's attention, including Janeway's. Her head jerked back around so she could take in the larger crowd, and she tried to pinpoint the speaker. She can't even bother to pay attention to what we're saying! She never listens to anybody except herself!

That's not true! someone else shouted in response, the first to defend the captain. Janeway couldn't tell who was speaking this time either. Whoever it was went on, I think she's doing pretty well just to stand there and listen to all these pointless -

Are these complaints all this meeting is about? someone else interrupted to ask. Because I have more important things to do than listen to a bunch of whiny, immature -

It was clearly Ensign Henderson who interrupted this time. Oh, you're a good one to talk about immaturity, Mr. Whitley! Or should I say witless?

No insults! Neelix hollered just as Janeway was about to ask him to intervene. One thing she didn't want to encourage was an undignified brawl among the crew. But once again the Talaxian surprised her with his largely untried ambassadorial skills. Ensign Henderson! he bellowed next, If you cannot control yourself, you will be removed from these proceedings. Now, there will be no more outbursts from the floor, immature or otherwise. He paused to make sure Henderson agreed to subside. She did, momentarily cowed. Neelix smoothed back the ruff of fur along his cheeks, relieved. Good. Now, um... I guess we've heard quite a few comments against the captain. I think it's time that Captain Janeway was allowed to answer these charges. Uh... Captain?

Neelix turned to her, as did the others. All at once a hundred pairs of eyes focused on her face. For a brief moment she considered letting herself panic, but she managed to get a tight grip on her emotions by allowing another swift glance at Chakotay. He was looking up now, watching her, waiting, confident, and she decided that was a good sign. If he could be confident after yelling at her only an hour before, then she could be confident as well. Or at least she could fake it.

Pain forgotten, Janeway lifted her head, her chin jutting out in her characteristic stance that said she was in no mood to be messed with. Aware that a display of too much authority was still not in her best interest, she softened the edge by scanning the crowd, a thoughtful expression on her face. For a moment she simply watched them. She met their looks of disdain with patience, their disgust with tolerance. No matter what face they wore, these people were her crew, her responsibility.

She started, These grievances that you have listed are not petty, or immature, as some might think, and this is not the first time I have been made aware of them. However, as valid as they are, they must be dealt with later. They're not the reason we're all gathered here in the cargo bay in the middle of the night. They're not reason enough to lower ourselves to such an extent that we stoop to holding one of own captive against his will. They are definitely not good enough reasons to make several unprovoked assassination attempts that endanger the lives of not only the victim, but all the members of this crew. She turned to Joe Carey then, acknowledging him as the leader of her opposing faction. The scathing look sent his way made him flush a blotchy red, and he began to squirm uncomfortably. Janeway coolly regarded him. Mr. Carey, your group can't even focus enough to mention the grievances that have led us here. I suspect that the majority of the non-Group members present tonight deserve some honesty about these proceedings, and I would appreciate it as well.

Carey stared at her, stunned. It was obvious that he hadn't expected Janeway to issue a challenge. In fact, he was so stunned that he could only gape at her, his mouth slightly open, his hair hanging in unruly curls on his forehead. It was the quiet, soft-spoken Ensign Ayala who stepped forward to answer the captain.

His dark features schooled into a somber expression, Ayala said, Captain Janeway, what this group wants more than anything is a home.

Janeway quickly rebutted, I am under the impression that you have a home already, here on board Voyager, until we make it back to the Alpha Quadrant.

We're never going to make it back! someone shouted again from somewhere near the rear of the cargo bay. Holding on to that dream is just stupid!

We need something more than just duty calls and down time between shifts! a second yell concurred.

We need something to actually look forward to!

We need a home here!

Janeway can't create a home because she doesn't know what the word means. This statement came so calmly that it acted like a bomb dropped on the escalating emotional outbursts. Nobody spoke. Ensign Carr remained where she had been standing since the meeting began, at the head of the circle surrounding the commander, but now she leaned forward to join the confrontation. Her posture exposed the barest swell of her pregnancy behind the uniform stretched taut across her abdomen.

This is more like it, Janeway muttered under her breath, and took several steps forward to signify her acceptance of Carr's response to her initial challenge. Perhaps if you tell me your definition of a home -

Carr didn't let her finish. A home is created by relationships, Captain! People who come together to form a family. It's pretty sad that the one person on board this ship who spouts off the words family and home like they're something she can sell doesn't even know what they mean!

In a controlled voice Janeway countered, I am perfectly aware of what makes a home, Ensign. I had one taken away from me just like you did. I lost a family that I loved.

Sue Henderson spoke up in a stinging voice, Being born into a family isn't the same as making one on your own. Or mean that you're capable of making one.

Carey found his voice at last. He looked to the captain and almost apologetically commented, It is frustrating that all the crewmembers who want real families are led by someone who doesn't even relate to anyone. Captain, he added as an afterthought, still overly apologetic and nervous.

Janeway turned towards him, amazed that this flustered lieutenant was the man who had organized several attempts to end her life. Still, he had surprised her before, and she refused to underestimate him now. She chose her next words carefully. Mr. Carey, I'm sure that, as one of the higher officers of this crew, you at least understand how much responsibility I have as captain of a starship. The time commitment alone does not allow me the luxury of seeking personal relationships. I have always considered that it would be unfair to my... She hesitated, not knowing what word to choose that best suited her purpose without seeming too explicit. ... partner, she settled on, for me to try to be both a captain and.... Once more she paused, unable to find the appropriate term, ill-timed images of Chakotay's palm pressed against hers filling her mind instead.

Lieutenant Walsh took advantage of her hesitation to say, No time? That sounds like a pretty good excuse. How about some real reasons now? Such as maybe you just don't like the idea of having someone to account to, or to compromise for? His tone insinuated more.

Furious at being attacked for decisions she felt she'd never had a choice in making, Janeway immediately pulled rank and lashed back, making her third mistake of the night. How dare you question my personal decisions. You have no more right to comment on my choice not to create a family here than I do to comment on your desire to have one. Perhaps my idea of a family does not-

More angry voices spoke out, obstructing, forcing her to relinquish the floor or appear overbearing. I don't think I even want to hear what your idea of a family is! a crewman shouted.

A whole family of career Starfleet - that's what you're from!

And that's exactly what you want us to become isn't it? One big happy Starfleet family, like yours back on Earth. Well sorry, Captain, that's not going to happen!

Stunned once more, Janeway could only grasp onto the idea that they had broken into her personnel file, which meant they knew all about her career, not to mention her family. Though she could hardly claim to come from a long history of Starfleet officers, they apparently thought she did. Maybe they considered Phoebe an honorary member of Starfleet because she was her sister, Janeway thought abstractly. Chiefly, she felt violated at having her career and family investigated and used against her.

Ensign Carr stepped forward even further, her posture calculated to appear antagonistic. You can't even imagine anybody not wanting to fit into that perfect Starfleet mold, can you, Captain? Her voice was a quiet contrast to the anger she was again interrupting. Unlike the others, she was calm, collected, and dangerous. Just like you can't figure out Seven of Nine, she accused relentlessly. All this time, ever since you beamed her over to this ship, you've been working on her, forcing her to live in your existence, creating her to be like you. It's the same way you've forced everybody here to conform to your codes, your morality, your reality. Even B'Elanna Torres plays the good little Starfleet engineer for you, and I never thought I'd see that. Your problem, Captain Janeway, is that you can't accept that anybody on your ship is different from you. Either we conform, like B'Elanna, or we suffer.

A commotion erupted to one side of the cargo bay. Several people shifted, and the momentary silence was interrupted by mutterings and whispered comments. B'Elanna Torres made several livid remarks about conforming to nobody's wishes, but it was all just background noise to the captain. Concentrating hard on Ensign Carr, Janeway took a step forward, matching the younger woman's stance. She tilted her head, letting her chin aggressively jut up again, unable to stop herself. A detached, analytical part of her was aware that she should ignore these taunts and personal attacks, but she was goaded beyond the ability to control her natural instincts at this point. Her jaw hardened and one eyebrow rose as she coldly assessed the ensign. Are you suffering, Ensign Carr? she asked slowly, mocking her, baiting her. I was under the impression that you were trying to kill me, not the other way around.

Carr reacted appropriately to Janeway's condescending tone. Her control dissolved into anger, and her face contorted in fury. You don't know anything! Nothing! You don't know how it feels to be stuck in the lower decks, not knowing what's going on, thrown into battles that you're not even fighting, asked to sacrifice everything you love because some captain with an overactive sense of morality decides it's a good idea to make alliances with a species like the Borg! I want a choice -

Why didn't you tell me about your pregnancy, Lauren?

The hush that fell over the assemblage after that innocent remark was deafening in its intensity. This news came as a shock to most of the crowd, even to some of the New Home members. The captain briefly noted that she had obviously let slip something that had not been released as common knowledge yet, but it was too late to worry about that now. Lauren's features crumbled from fury to astonished betrayal in one heartbeat. She shot a glance at Carey, then looked over her shoulder, glaring at Chakotay. What? she asked in a low, seething voice.

Janeway repeated her question, her tone more gentle, less taunting in an attempt to control the rising tension. Why did you and Joe feel you couldn't tell me about this? There was no need to be concerned that -

Wearing the look of a determined cougar prepared to eliminate a potential threat to her innocent cubs, Lauren rounded on Janeway, saying, No, I won't let you have it! I'm not like good old Sam Wildman! I refuse to raise my child in Starfleet!

With a flash of inspiration, Janeway suddenly understood. Realizing that Ensign Carr was an instrumental member of the New Home Group had helped the captain comprehend precisely what she was dealing with. Now, just as abruptly, she knew what motivated the group as a whole, and Carr in particular. The ensign's earlier comment about wanting a choice suddenly made sense; she didn't want a choice for herself, but for her child. That knowledge surprised Janeway. In all the time she had been dealing with the New Home Group, she never would have anticipated this to be the central issue.

It was also something that Janeway didn't quite know how to deal with. Personal crew distress was more Chakotay's area than hers. She cast a glance to Chakotay, but he appeared genuinely puzzled as well. All along they had thought the Group's main target was Janeway. To find out that it was Starfleet itself, a far more intangible objective, momentarily stalled their arguments.

Finding no help from Chakotay, the captain heard herself inelegantly splutter, Wh... what?

Do you think we're dumb, Captain? Lieutenant Walsh interjected, his tone amazed and scathing, effortlessly filling the silence that followed Carr's panicked words and Janeway's desperate bid for comprehension. Do you think that we're so stupid we don't know how it's always going to be unless we do something to stop you?

Stop me? she blurted next. From doing what?

Give us some credit for knowing enough to figure it out. We're not that dumb! he repeated angrily.

The captain bristled at his tone and his words. I would never consider you -

He's right, you know, Chell interrupted pleasantly enough, though even this mild Bolian had an edge to his voice. Janeway swung around to look at him. He went on, explaining, Based on previous events and the attitude in which you have dealt with them, we believe that as long as you're in charge, Voyager will never be more than a Starfleet vessel.

Voyager is a Starfleet vessel, Janeway coldly reminded them. We agreed to that years ago when we started back to the Alpha Quadrant.

You agreed, emphasized Lauren Carr. She had once again regained her composure, channeling her anger into useful energy rather than letting it take control. Somehow you convinced Chakotay and the others that the only way we could survive out here was to be one, united, Starfleet crew, like that was our only option. She sneered, as if saying the word 'Starfleet' made her nauseous. Now we know that it will never change.

No, not as long as you're the captain, Chell told her somberly, perfectly serious. The crewmembers still surrounding Chakotay nodded their heads in agreement with his statement. Chell spoke with such quiet authority that it was hard not to agree with him.

Janeway wondered when the ensign had learned to cultivate such strong control in his speech. She'd always thought of Chell as a soft, nervous crewmember, easily dominated. This was a completely different Chell, one full of confidence and self-approval. One with dangerous ideas. If she were honest with herself, this change in Chell scared her. She didn't know what to expect from him, and not knowing what to expect from her crew was enough to sufficiently scare any captain. Why have I not heard of this before now? she asked in a belligerent tone, though she did her best to keep her emotions buried.

Carr barked a laugh, just as belligerent as Janeway. What good would telling you have done? Talking to you about something as sacred as Starfleet would have been a waste of time! As Trin just pointed out, we aren't stupid. We know how it would have gone. You would have just -

Janeway ground her teeth in frustration, feeling like she was arguing with an immovable rock. She interrupted, Why Mr. Walsh claims that I think the Group is of inferior intelligence is beyond my comprehension. I don't see why telling me of these problems long ago would have -

Maybe it's you who's stupid then, Carr stated, her sneer in place once more, her voice rising again. You just don't get it, do you? We don't want to be Starfleet anymore. There, I've said it. Now you know, she said nastily, her hands planted on her hips, savoring the confrontation. Joe's been arguing all along that we stay in, but he always holds out for that damned Starfleet grandeur sell. I don't know about the rest of you, but I've never seen anything grand or noble about this setup. We do all the work, never know what's going on, and don't have any choice but to follow orders that we don't understand. I won't waste any more of my time waiting for that Starfleet magnanimity to get around to finding me, because I know it will never happen, no matter what Joe says!

Janeway blinked in confusion. She glanced at Joe Carey, who was still standing near Tuvok, a resigned expression on his face, as if he wished none of this had ever happened, though he had helped to bring it about and was determined to endure it to the end. It wasn't the expression of someone bent on her personal destruction or who agreed with everything being said. But I thought Mr. Carey was....

You don't think, Captain! Carr exploded. That's your problem! You don't consider anybody but yourself, your way of life, and your ship! The rest of us might just as well leave for all the consideration you give to the crew. As long as you have your loyal little bunch of Starfleet groupie officers tripping over themselves to carry on the illustrious Starfleet tradition, you can do anything you want. Starfleet is military, Captain, and exactly like any other elitist organization; most of us just don't matter. There's no room in it for people who want families, there's nothing in it for me, and there's definitely no place in it for my baby!

Sue Henderson took up the argument. And if we don't want Starfleet, then we sure as hell don't want you as captain! That's what this is all about!

An angry voice from the side of the gathering nearest the door suddenly interrupted, yelling, Wait just one damn minute!

B'Elanna, Janeway thought and groaned softly. Tension levels were high enough already without the addition of the lieutenant's sharp words, but Janeway was helpless to stop the scene from rolling out of control. The hot tempered Klingon surged forward, pushing her way through the crowd in order to reach the empty central area where the captain and the others stood. She was breathing heavily in an obvious attempt to keep control of her anger. She was just as obviously losing the struggle.

Torres glared at Ensign Carr. What's all this garbage about hating Starfleet? Who do you think you are, anyway?

Go away, Torres! This doesn't have anything to do with you! Lauren spoke to the engineer, but her eyes never left Janeway.

B'Elanna's head jerked in surprise, making her hair cut across her cheeks. Excuse me? she asked, the phrase much more polite than her caustic tone. This doesn't concern me? I'm just supposed to stand by and quietly let you play at being Q?

This time Carr looked at B'Elanna as she said through gritted teeth, This does not concern you!

Torres scowled. Like hell it doesn't! You're talking about taking out my superior officer, and if you think I won't do something to stop you, you're more deluded than I thought!

Carey desperately interjected, Torres, that's not the whole issue.

Torres whirled to face him. It may not be the whole issue, but it's the one we're dealing with right now, thanks to you!

Carey sighed. As usual, you're not listening, and you don't understand, he insisted.

Shut up, Carey! Torres hollered in frustration. I broke your nose the last time I 'didn't understand.' Maybe this time I won't be so nice!

Lauren pointed a finger at B'Elanna. Don't threaten anybody, B'Elanna! You can't expect us to bow down to your mighty Klingon temper! This is too important!

Torres snorted a laugh. She threw a glance around the cargo bay and said, Oh, now I get it. It's perfectly acceptable for you to try to kill the captain, but I can't threaten to break that wimp's nose! Wouldn't it be nice if it was so convenient for you, Lauren! But it's not. I won't let it!

Lieutenant! Janeway barked. That's enough. This meeting isn't meant to be -

Torres turned to Janeway, gesturing wildly with her hands and panting, Someone has to defend you from these imbeciles, Captain, and it might as well be me!

I'm not here to defend myself, Janeway said, deflecting B'Elanna's righteous anger in one sweep. I'm here to solve this dispute.

Surprisingly, it was Chell who snorted a laugh this time. You can't solve it with a pat little Starfleet solution this time, Captain. You tried that with us before, and we won't accept that.

Determined not to succumb to any tangents or emotional manipulations, Janeway obstinately continued, I was under the impression that you wanted the freedom to create families, on board Voyager if not planetside. My purpose here is to negotiate this point.

This isn't a negotiation, Captain, Carr stated bluntly. Our stipulation for Chakotay's release is your removal. That's it.

So this was a hostage situation after all. Janeway glanced across to Chakotay. His furious expression, aimed at Carr, heralded what she knew was going to be a verbal thrashing of explosive proportions, but B'Elanna interrupted again before he had a chance to respond, her voice incredulous. You want her to step down? Are you crazy? She's the one who got us this far in the first place!

Despite her thoughts on this same subject earlier that evening, the captain now realized that if she made this concession to the Group and relinquished her command, even for Chakotay, the non-Group members of the crew would be expected to make similar sacrifices in the future. A refusal on her part now could potentially buy some time for those crewmembers, at least temporarily. Though a refusal left her vulnerable to more death threats, Janeway readily accepted that as a reasonable price to ensure the rest of the crew's rights. She retorted, I won't abdicate, her tone as blunt as Carr's.

There isn't another option, Carr responded instantly. You didn't give us a choice before, we're not giving you a choice now!

Janeway bristled again. I have responsibilities to the non-Group members of this crew! As their representative, I refuse to be bullied into resigning my command! If you have problems with the governance of this ship, it was your obligation to mention it before now. Voyager is my ship, it is the crew's ship, and it is your ship! For all our sakes, we need to find some compromise that's acceptable -

No compromise! You're not the leader we want!

There isn't a leader who's right for everybody all the time, Ensign! the captain angrily pointed out. Based on the arguments I've heard, which are far from convincing, I won't allow you to force this issue. I refuse to step down! she repeated resolutely.

And we refuse to compromise!

Then you leave me with no choice but to impose terms of my own. You can either remain on board and work with the rest of the crew to resolve these differences, or you can spend the next fifty years in the brig! Either way, I'm going to make sure every Group member gets their sorry hide back to the Alpha Quadrant. How you get there is up to you!

Carr snarled, You don't have the right to dictate that! Not to any of us! I at least want something resembling a normal life for my daughter! A normal life doesn't include Starfleet! Angry and beyond control, she reached for one of the phasers left lying forgotten on the floor.

With one swift kick of her foot, B'Elanna knocked the phaser out of Carr's reach. Spoiling for a fight, she snarled and balled her hands into tight fists, ready for instant action. Come on Lauren, if you want a fight, I'll give you one!

Just as eager for a physical confrontation, Carr obligingly mirrored B'Elanna's stance. My pleasure, Torres!

But neither had the opportunity to throw the first punch. Alarmed, the crowd streamed toward them, everybody intent on either aiding or deterring one of the combatants. In the crush, someone's elbow struck someone's cheek, an arm was thrust into a stomach, and before anybody knew what was happening, all hell broke loose.

The surge of the crowd was so strong that it neatly dissected Torres and Carr into two distinct battlegrounds. B'Elanna was shoved back into the group near the vicinity of the cargo bay doors. Something hit her behind the knees and she went down, her arms flailing wildly in every direction. With a roar of pure Klingon rage, she jumped up a second later and plowed her fist into the first face within reach, in this case the one belonging to Mr. Neelix. He fell back, knocking into Lieutenant Carey, who in turn hit Ensign Chell. They all fell to the floor in a heap of waving arms and legs and Starfleet uniforms.

B'Elanna took just enough time to growl, Sorry Neelix! before she turned to make another attempt at reaching Ensign Carr.

The object of the engineer's anger was beyond her reach, however. Lauren found herself in the frustrating position of being too far away from both B'Elanna and Captain Janeway to vent her anger on either officer. The fact that the crowd had herded her back to her previous place near Chakotay was equally as irritating, especially since she couldn't find another phaser in easy reach. Too many fighting, moving bodies were in the way, impeding her view. The forgotten weapons skittered chaotically across the floor, kicked and pushed aside in favor of fists and brute force, always sliding just a little too far away for her to grasp. She looked up to find Janeway in the crowd, still frustratingly unattainable.

For her part, the captain had her gaze locked onto Lauren Carr, in spite of the occasional fist, leg, and boot that might distract her. Janeway ignored the attacks, sloughing them off, easing herself through the row, concentrating on reaching the ensign. If she could at least close the distance between them, she might have the chance to try to talk to her again. Janeway wasn't willing to give up on a third of her crew so easily just because someone was mad and a fight had broken out. Keeping everybody together was as important to her as dividing them was to Carr.

At the same time, she knew that what Chakotay had said to her earlier was also too important to ignore; she needed to make changes in her command style if she wanted to help the crew move beyond this hurdle to form a more diverse and ultimately more fulfilling shipboard community. At this point, not only was such a change necessary to restoring peace, she finally understood that it was paramount to their continued survival as a crew. But in order to do that, she needed to end this dispute, and the key to the current fight was obviously Lauren Carr. Unfortunately, the way the ensign looked right now, she would probably be happier to kill her than talk to her. Still, Janeway was determined to try.

Doing her best to draw deep breaths, concentrating on her goal though her lungs now constricted painfully, she continued to maneuver her way through the crowd, heading towards the young ensign. It was her last mistake of the night.

As she drew closer to Lauren, a blur of activity suddenly assaulted Janeway, coming from the area near the group encircling Chakotay. Ironically, the wall of Group members holding the commander hostage had also acted as an excellent barrier between him and the worst of the fighting, protecting him and allowing her to concentrate on other concerns. He was much safer inside the enemy line than she was on its outside. The moment she moved in Carr's direction, however, the situation abruptly changed.

It was difficult to tell exactly what was happening in the dim lighting of the cargo bay, but she caught the unmistakable glint of light off the silver metal casing of a tiny palm phaser, tucked discreetly in Ensign Ayala's hand. As the presence of that illegal weapon slowly penetrated her brain, its importance overtaking her previously single-minded objective, she realized just as slowly that Ayala had the phaser aimed straight at her. In her desire to bring an end to this mess, she had stupidly ignored her own safety in her attempt to move closer to Ensign Carr. The change in position had carried her away from the main area of fighting, and now she stood out in the open, an apparent threat to a Group member and an easy target for the security agent. In the current melee, a shot fired from such a tiny phaser would easily go unnoticed until things had settled down. By then she could very well be dead and it would be impossible to prove who had done the actual killing. Ayala would remain free, the captain would be gone, and the New Home Group would get what they wanted after all, unless she did something to stop him.

But instead of moving, Janeway froze. She knew it was the worst thing she could do, yet she suddenly found herself incapable of doing anything else. Oddly enough, and as badly timed as her other mental wanderings had been, she could think of nothing except Chakotay; his voice, his smile, his words, his constant support, his sweet shyness. They had come so close to finally connecting that night, to working through the morass of protocol and fear and self protection that kept them apart. Until that night, she'd always been too stubborn, too afraid to open herself to him. And now, they would never get the chance to finish what they'd started. For whatever reason, she always seemed to wait too long to finalize any relationship. What a waste, was her only stray thought as she saw her ensign prepare to fire.

But once again an outside force intervened. Before she knew what was happening, a scuffle erupted. She watched as bodies moved in a slow, oddly synchronized dance, rotating and exchanging positions all around her, blocking her line of sight one minute, clearing it the next until again nothing impeded her view of Ensign Ayala and his unexpected opponent, Chakotay. The two men also stood apart from the others, their hands locked together, wrestling silently to gain control of that newly revealed weapon. With all the fighting, nobody noticed, and nobody moved to stop them.

Time slowed for Janeway. Her heart lurched painfully and skipped several beats, then jumped into her throat, her lungs constricting further with the same breath. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware of Neelix yelling in an attempt to stop the fighting. Tuvok must have looked across the bay and realized what was happening at the same time, for she heard him call orders to the members of his security team present at the meeting, trying to quickly organize them into a force capable of helping the commander. That detached part of her mind simultaneously informed her that nobody working with Tuvok was close enough to be of any use to Chakotay; too many writhing bodies separated them from the eerily quiet wrestling match. She was in a far better position to offer assistance, and from the look of things, Chakotay needed help. For all of Ayala's retiring manner, he was simply better than his former captain at close contact fighting, and he weighed a great deal more.

Suddenly, even through the bedlam filling the cargo bay, she heard Chakotay grunt, the only noise either had issued during their struggle. She watched as Ayala bent Chakotay's wrist backwards at an awkward angle, and the sound of snapping bones reached her, like two sticks clicking together. Then her first officer either slipped or fell to his knees, still struggling, though the phaser was securely under Ayala's control. The ensign pointed the weapon directly at Chakotay.

After that, and despite all her training and sworn vows and oaths of command, the rest was easy for her. Without realizing that she'd made a conscious decision, Janeway dove for the nearest discarded phaser. She rolled neatly in a tight ball, barely conscious of the bumps prodding into her arms and legs from the uneven deck plates. She scooped the phaser into her hand and completed her roll in one smooth movement, coming to rest crouched on one knee with only five meters between her and the two men. Her finger moved purposefully over the weapon, pushing the energy discharge to a much higher setting. Then she fired a warning shot directly into the floor only inches from the ensign's boots, successfully getting his attention as well as everybody's in the bay. At the confusing flash from her phaser, the fighting abruptly ceased and everybody stopped to look around in bewilderment. Janeway didn't notice anything except Ayala's sudden jerk away from the scorched flooring.

Don't move, she ordered, panting but calm, the phaser aimed at Ayala's head. He was still bent partially over Chakotay, but he could see her from the corner of his eyes. Surprise registered on his face, and uncertainty quickly followed. She went on, still unusually calm considering the circumstances. I've never shot a member of my own crew before, but I'm willing to make you my first. Now move away from him.

Ayala licked his lips, hesitant, still clearly not sure what to do, when Janeway caught sight of additional movement towards Chakotay. Three, four, perhaps more Group members began strategic maneuvers that brought them within closer proximity of Chakotay than she wished. It was then that she noticed the extraneous fights had broken off as others took the cue and started moving towards him as well. To her eyes, it looked as if some of them held phasers and were prepared to use them. Panic tore at her defenses and exploded inside her, spawning desperation. There were just too many opponents for her to successfully keep track of. If she didn't do something soon, Ensign Ayala would be the least of her concerns.

Stop! Don't touch him! she yelled, adamant, her voice no longer calm, her breath coming in forced gasps. Nobody hurts Chakotay. Is that understood? Adrenaline pumped through her veins and pounded in her head, making it hard for her to hear what the others nearest her were saying. In all her life as an explorer facing the unknown, she had never been so scared as she was now. One flick of Ayala's finger and Chakotay would be dead. If Ayala didn't kill him, someone else surely would, and she could do nothing to bring him back. That was unacceptable. She could agree to the sacrifice of her life for this crew and this ship, but she would not allow the same from Chakotay. His safety was more important than anything else at this point, and she knew of only one way to guarantee that.

I am.... Her voice cracked, and she fought to bring it under control. I am prepared to step down as captain of this ship, as the New Home Group requests. Her breath caught in her throat. She heaved in a gulp of air, desperate to continue. But I want to make it absolutely clear that if Chakotay is harmed in any way, I am equally prepared to -

Kathryn, don't! That is not an option!

These first words spoken by the commander since the meeting's commencement startled them all anew. Chakotay's voice was lanced with pain, but his interruption cut the tension and everybody froze. She glanced at him, ridiculously aware that he had called her by her first name in public surroundings, as if it mattered what he called her now; in seconds they might both be dead. Spurred by that thought, she managed to say, Keep quiet, Chakotay. I know what I'm doing.

I don't think you do, he stated bluntly. He glared at her. She blinked, astonished at his words, but by then he was glaring at Ayala. Next he turned to glare at every crewmember his gaze could touch from his squatting position on the floor. Most looked back at him in surprise. Lauren Carr stayed bent over a phaser just out of her reach, but she didn't complete the motion to pick it up. Tuvok stood with one arm raised in midair, about to block a strike from the disgruntled Ensign Henderson. Neelix was stalled midway between two sets of crewmembers, still appearing indecisive about which fight to interrupt first. B'Elanna's fingers hovered over her combadge, as if she'd been about to call for reinforcements.

Ayala shifted uncomfortably in the position he was holding, and Chakotay returned his glare to the ensign. The commander climbed slowly to his feet, his face pinched and white before he managed to mask the pain of his injuries, but there was a dignified grace to his struggle, as if to let them know they couldn't hurt him any more than they already had. Once he'd gained his feet, he reached for the palm phaser with his good hand and ripped it away from Ayala. Give me that. Chakotay regarded the weapon with an appreciative eye. It was a cunning, wicked device, easily concealed but no less effective for its size. His eyes rose to meet the ensign's again. Not exactly standard issue, is it, Ayala. Planning on doing a little murder with it tonight? Maybe trying to solve some hard problems the easy way? Let me help. With a quick flick of disgust, he tossed the weapon to the far corner of the room. It crashed against the metal wall and clattered to rest on the floor. An echo of sound reverberated throughout the bay, and it seemed that all the escalating tension faded from the room as the sound slowly disappeared.

The second Chakotay was out of immediate danger, Janeway wilted, the adrenaline leaving her body in a rush, and she dissolved into a heap on the floor. She rested one arm across her knee, panting, the phaser still clutched in her hand. Leftover adrenaline made her shake. As an afterthought she powered her phaser down, though she had to fight to keep her hand steady enough to do it. Then she dropped the weapon to the floor, not caring if the new noise directed everybody's eyes to her again. She knew she must look like an idiot, sitting on the floor in a bundle of lost nerve, but she didn't particularly care about that either. Chakotay was safe. That's what mattered.

This is how it feels to love someone, she remembered suddenly, amazed at the immensity of her relief. Like so many other things, she had forgotten, and so had not really understood until now. The threat of death had a way of reawakening submerged memories as well as forcing acceptance of suppressed emotions, she discovered. Denying her love for Chakotay had never kept him safe, just as revealing her love couldn't keep him safe now. They were both captive to the vagaries of chance. The inevitable possibility of pain was simply a part of loving someone. She could no longer allow that fear to control her emotions for the commander, even if it meant that she spent the rest of her life with her heart in her throat. She refused to give him up now. After all that had just happened, it was easy for her to willingly accept that additional burden in loving Chakotay.

The issue decided, she was still shaking as she slowly raised her eyes to look at him.

He continued to survey the crowd with that mix of disgust and disdain that he conveyed so well. She had been the brunt of that look recently enough to appreciate the discomfort the rest of the crew must be suffering under it now. The look drifted from person to person, Group member and Starfleet crew alike, passed across her, and came to rest on Ensign Carr. Well, he said at last, his voice deceptively soft, at least now we know what this is really all about. He limped a few steps forward, favoring his right leg, until he reached the center of the room. There he stopped.

Commander Chakotay let his gaze single out Joe Carey, Lauren Carr, and the other Group members one more time. He paused, then distinctly demanded, Can anybody here tell me what you were thinking? No one answered his rhetorical question. He limped forward a little further, and several people winced at the obvious pain he was doing his best to cover up. Their expressions didn't go unnoticed. Chakotay turned on them, extorting, When you think back on this incident in years to come, I hope you still cringe. What you've done here is inexcusable. He gestured with his good arm to encompass the cargo bay. All of us - our hopes, our desires, and especially our fears, deserve more respect than any of us have displayed tonight. His expression changed, and he glanced down, looking almost like he was hiding tears. There was no doubt in anybody present that they had all heartily disappointed their commander. That sensation carried more power than any of them might have expected. Shamed, the crowd looked to the floor, the ceiling, their boot toes, the walls, anywhere but at each other, and definitely not at Chakotay.

He aged in that minute. New lines etched themselves into his face, around his eyes, where the crinkly laugh lines no longer expressed humor so much as worry. Tired, older, Chakotay raised his eyes and took a deep breath. Haltingly, he began what he hoped would at least be a temporary solution to the current conflict. I don't like to lay blame at anybody's feet. Blame doesn't solve anything. It's better to simply fix the problems that arise than to waste precious time making some poor soul take responsibility for them. Captain Janeway taught me that. His eyes swung over the gathering to find Janeway again, and his expression lightened, though his voice remained hard. I hope that everybody here will learn to understand and appreciate that concept after this. His gaze swung away from Janeway to again take in the group as a whole. But we can't wait for everybody to figure out what's really important; right now we obviously have some fixing to do. His sadness reverberated across the room. He sighed unhappily, and nobody spoke. A moment later, he began to explain, Earlier this evening, Kathryn and I had started to discuss an alternative way to govern Voyager. You're not the only ones who think it's time for some changes. However, because you decided to take things into your own hands, he paused briefly and glared again at the Group members, declaring his distaste of their kidnapping methods without having to say a word. When he continued, the crowd was even more subdued, we didn't have time to complete any details or talk over any ideas with the crew. The bare outline involves more responsibilities delegated to junior officers and crewmen. The current command staff is unable to maintain the energy level necessary to keep up with the demands of fulfilling our survival needs and see to the development of the community as well. And we do have a community here, whether you know it or not, he emphatically said. Like anything, there are good things and bad things about living on Voyager. I guess.... He stopped to look at Janeway again. His expression lightened again, some of the sadness dissipating, and the corners of his lips lifted in the hint of a smile. I guess we'll need to accept what we can't change, and change what we can. If we're really lucky, we'll be able to figure out the difference between them when we need to, before it's too late.

Somehow, Janeway knew that his words were as much for her as they were for the entire crew. She smiled slightly, telling him that she understood the hidden meaning behind what he said, and that maybe she even agreed with him. If so, then he had just successfully forged the first necessary link to creating such an undertaking as he was proposing. A new form of government would be nothing without Janeway's support. Neither would he.

Chakotay smiled back, and before he said anything more, he chuckled, the action so out of place that everybody perked up, morbidly interested. Captain Janeway once told me she couldn't run this ship by consensus. But that was a long time ago. He paused again, letting his words sink in slowly, giving the group the chance to digest and ruminate on what they were hearing. At last he thoughtfully said, For now, we have a lot of work to do, and a great deal to think about before we can accomplish any of it. I believe we've done everything we can tonight. So just... He sighed, looking weary and in need of medical attention and a good night's sleep. Just... think about it, he finished softly. He was rubbing dispiritedly at his eyes, not even seeing the beginning of the group's obviously positive response to the ideas he had expressed as he ended the conflict by saying, Everybody, go home.

For a moment nobody stirred. They stood and stared awkwardly at each other, wanting to leave but not willing to be the first to head towards the exit. Then, almost as one, they started to move. Considering the anger previously displayed, they all left quietly enough, mingling freely again as if they hadn't been prepared to kill each other only moments before. New ideas had replaced the old, angry issues that had brought the crewmembers to the cargo bay, and the murmurs heard now were thoughtful rather than instigated by angry emotions. Only the crew too wounded to move remained behind. Someone had called Sickbay, requesting that the doctor beam directly to the cargo bay to help the worst of the injured. Joe Carey stood to one side, quietly insisting that Lauren see the doctor to make sure the baby was safe, with Ensign Henderson encouraging her as well. Tuvok ordered a few members of his security detail to help the doctor with patients unable to support themselves on the trip to Sickbay for further treatment. Even B'Elanna Torres had found something to occupy herself by informing the recently arrived Tom Paris of the evening's events before volunteering to help Tuvok move patients. Order slowly restored itself to the cargo bay.

Chakotay stood alone among the moving throng, suddenly feeling superfluous and unnecessary. He hurt everywhere. Something had happened to his right knee when he'd slipped while wrestling with Ayala, and his entire right hand was numb from the broken wrist, and dangled uselessly at the end of his arm. He clutched it to his side, but immobilizing it did little to reduce the pain. Suddenly, more than anything, he wanted to sit down.

Then Kathryn was there, stumbling over the floor, still shaking and breathing hard, but reaching him right when he needed her the most. She looked at him, concerned, stunned, and a little surprised, he thought. She said nothing, and he didn't have the energy to ask what she was thinking. When she reached out to him with both arms, he couldn't even bring himself to feel any surprise of his own. He was only grateful to have her there as she wrapped her arms around him, cradling him in a hug. He held her tightly with his left arm and simply let her touch soothe everything else away. Somehow she understood that was exactly what he needed.

Chapter 8 || Contents || Chapter 10