Chapter 2: Partial Catharsis, Stardate 79546.06
Commander Jake Janeway stood and paced outside of the office of Deanna Troi-Riker-Riker, too nervous to sit. She knows I want this to be my last session, why is it taking so long? Is this deliberate to see what my response would be from waiting?
Nervously, he glanced at the camera that was positioned to cover the waiting room. Surprised I never noticed that damned thing in here after 59 mandatory visits.
“Commander Janeway, please come in.” Come on in for one more hour of hell.
The Commander waited for the previous patient to come out, a Marine Lieutenant, and Jake entered.
“Hey, what's up? Think you're gonna succeed in pshrinking me today, Captain?” Jake sarcastically said as he flopped down on the couch in the office, grinning sardonically.
“I've told time after time, call me Deanna. After all, I did teach you to control your gift,” Troi-Riker replied, apparently unfazed by Janeway's demeanor.
“So that's the route we're taking today, hmm? My gift? Remember, I was a xenopsychology major at the academy. I honestly expected better from a counselor of your caliber. Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Jake replied, keeping up his sarcastic demeanor.
“Come now, Jake. I've noticed something in our previous sessions, you haven't mentioned making use of your empathic abilities since we've begun, and I certainly haven't noticed you using them during the sessions, either. So, care to explain? Or should I bring my husband in, so you can laugh about the time you destroyed his ship?” she replied, matching Janeway's sarcasm.
“Ok, point made, I know I've been avoiding that subject, it honestly just hasn't...” Deanna's stern look quickly put an end to his excuse. “Alright, fine, what do you wanna know?”
“Why haven't you used your empathic abilities since the attack? Before you claim you have, that little implant that keeps the voices from overwhelming you that we installed at age two? It monitors your empathic and telepathic usage and per the PATI Act, I have the ability to download the records. As a fellow empath, I don't want to do that.” replied Deanna, a hard edge to her voice.
“You've been saving this card for a while, haven't you Counselor?” returned Janeway, his voice steely.
“Answer the question, Jake!” she replied angrily, but her tone softened again, “Please.”
“Fine, you wanna bloody know?! My “gift” is the reason 6000 men and women are dead!!!” Jake screamed and flipped the coffee table in front of him, then collapsed onto the couch.
“What are you talking about, Jake? What happened?” she replied and sat down next to Jake. Deanna attempted to put an arm around him, but he pulled away. Janeway's shoulders sagged, and he hung his head in shame.
“Right before the battle, I used my ability to see what my crewmates were feeling, and when the Pyramids decloaked...” Jake stopped as he tried to regain his composure, “Their panic.... it just overwhelmed me, and I couldn't.... react, couldn't.... think, couldn't.... even shut them out. The use of my “gift” allowed them to get the first shots off, and 300 people, just on the Musashi.... died because of it. Not to mention all hands on the Jefferson, the Leyte Gulf, the Oppenheimer, and the Wolf 359.... Then there's the Tian An Men and the Minuteman.... All totaled, my actions led to the death or assimilation of 6000 people.... Then the JAG rules that I was not liable.... that's like putting salt in the wound.”
“Jake, you have to see what they saw... I never told you, but I read the report on the battle. You did everything right, you saved the convoy, you did your best to protect your crew, and you kept 40,000 civilians and military personnel from being assimilated or killed by ordering the rest of the squadron to retreat. I understand your frustration, but...” Troi-Riker began.
“No, you don't understand and you never
will,” Jake straightened and put the mask of anger back on. “This is such a waste of time! Have a good life, counselor.” Jake stood, and stormed out of the office. Troi-Riker tried to follow, but the door closed behind him before she could.
“I hate it when he does that,” Troi-Riker said as she bent over and began picking up the pieces of glass from the coffee table.