A couple of weeks ago, the Doctor and Seven had run an anonymous ship-wide efficiency survey. The survey, meant to solicit views across the ranks and departments on how to streamline efficiency and improve the operations of the ship, had quickly become - as Tom Paris called it - a “job satisfaction” survey.
“As I informed the Doctor when he drafted the questionnaire,” Seven had said, when she reported the survey results to senior staff, “The questions were too imprecisely drafted.”
The Doctor huffed, but something told Kathryn that he had known exactly what he was doing. In any case, instead of learning about where resources could be diverted from or shared between departments, the survey had revealed that just over 64% of the crew thought Neelix should take cooking lessons on the holodeck (Kathryn had expected that number to be much higher) and 82% wanted the ship to be fitted with a physical gym so they didn’t have to rely on the holodecks for their workouts (Kathryn should have thought of that herself).
What had come as a surprise, was the feedback that Seven and the Doctor had shared with her and Chakotay after the rest of the senior staff had been dismissed.
“Feedback on the command team is generally positive.” Seven began dispassionately.
“Only generally?” Kathryn teased. Chakotay glanced at her sharply and she knew that he could tell her humour masked real apprehension. Sure, Voyager operated under a hierarchy which meant that she could take, or leave, the crew’s feedback, but the wellbeing and happiness of her crew mattered to her. Heck, most - if not all - her decisions were driven by those very factors!
“Generally.” Seven confirmed with a nod of her head, oblivious to Kathryn’s discomfort. “89% of the crew think that the command team strike the right balance between exploration and journeying home. The remaining 11% are largely compromised of the original Starfleet crew.” Seven looked between Kathryn and Chakotay. “As opposed to former Maquis,” she clarified.
Kathryn snuck a glance at Chakotay. “We don’t need to draw that distinction, Seven. Please move on.”
“It is an interesting observation,” Seven pressed on, keen to justify herself. “Logic dictates that the Maquis would be most dissatisfied given that they did not sign up for a life of space exploration.”
Kathryn snuck another glance at Chakotay. “Let’s move on, Seven,” she repeated more firmly, leaving no room for doubt that this was not a suggestion.
“Very well. 94% of the crew are uncertain if they are permitted to pursue interpersonal relationships with one another.”
“That’s a very high number.” The Doctor chimed in and Kathryn had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Surely you can see how this would be a problem. We have another 40 years left in our journey and skilled as I may be, I cannot keep you all alive for that long. This needs to be a generational ship.”
Kathryn sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping that Chakotay would jump in. “Interpersonal relationships?” she asked, stalling. “You mean romantic relationships?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a smirk on Chakotay’s face.
“You are correct, Captain. The crew believes that you and the Commander would not approve were they to enter into romantic relationships onboard Voyager.”
Kathryn crossed her arms and glanced over at Chakotay once more. He was staring at a spot just beyond the Doctor’s right ear, a neutral, if not slightly bemused expression plastered on his face. Big help he was. As far as she was concerned, interpersonal relationships fell squarely within his purview.
“The crew doesn’t need our permission to enter into interpersonal relationships. The rules don’t prohibit this, they just ask that those relationships be disclosed so that conflicts of interest can be monitored and managed.”
“But neither you, nor the Commander, are in a relationship.”
Kathryn stood and moved to stand behind her chair. She felt the colour rising in her cheeks. This time, she couldn’t bring herself to look at Chakotay. “I don’t see what that has to do with this.”
“The crew follow your lead, Captain,” the Doctor explained gently. “They look to you to establish the culture onboard the ship.”
“So you mean to tell me everyone on this ship is single and celibate?” Kathryn asked, her voice sounding shrill to her own ears. “All because the Commander and I…”
“That’s not what they’re saying, Captain.” Chakotay spoke up at last. “They’re saying that the crew don’t feel like they can be open about the relationships that they are in.”
Kathryn scowled at him. Whose side was he on, anyway? “I find that hard to believe. Tom and B’Elanna are open about the status of their relationship, as are… are…” Kathryn sighed and sunk back into her seat. “So what you’re telling me is that we need to force ourselves into relationships for the good of the crew.”
“Why can’t you just acknowledge that you are already in a relationship?” Seven asked, confusion clearly written on her face.
“I - I - What?!” Kathryn spluttered.
“The characteristics to identify whether two or more people are in a romantic relationship,” Seven began and Kathryn got the sense that she was reciting from one of her recent social lessons with the Doctor, “include: one, body language - a noticeable level of closeness not shared with others, such as leaning toward each other when talking, maintaining eye contact, and being more relaxed when together. You and the Commander often walk unnecessarily close given the size of Voyager’s corridors and are more attentive when the other speaks.
Two, frequent physical contact. I have observed, Captain, that whilst you are a tactile person, you are 74% more likely to touch the Commander if compared to other crewmen. Gestures such as the squeeze of a shoulder, grasp of an arm, or cupping of the cheek - all of which I’ve observed between you - indicate a comfort level beyond commanding officers and friends and desire to maintain physical contact in spaces or situations where it may not be appropriate to engage in a more public display of affection.
Three, shared spaces. You and the Commander spend most, if not all, your free time together. If I’m not mistaken, unless one of you has alternative plans or in the event of a ship-wide emergency, it is given that you will have dinner together. You attend ship functions together and when one of you is injured, the other spends most of their off duty time by their bedside.
Additionally, I have observed, Captain, that you tend to hesitate for an additional 12.7 seconds when determining whether to send the Commander on an away mission, if compared to other crewmen. You are also more agitated when-“
Kathryn held her hands up. “Enough, Seven! I get the picture.” She felt the colour rising to her cheeks. Whilst Seven’s evidence wasn’t exactly damning, taken in the round it certainly had the potential to be incriminating and Kathryn wasn’t sure how to proceed. Deliberately avoiding looking over Chakotay, who she knew would be no help whatsoever, she pinched the bridge of her nose and gathered every ounce of authority she could muster. “The Commander and I have a very close working relationship. He is my best friend. And I don’t appreciate you, or the crew, speculating about the status of our relationship and how we choose to spend our free time.”
Her eyes fell on the Doctor. “And you,” she said, even more scathingly. “Should know better. Dismissed.”
As Seven and the Doctor all but scurried out of the briefing room, Chakotay turned to Kathryn with a wide grin on his face. “Honestly, Kathryn, you have got to learn to keep your hands off me when we’re on duty.”