From: Jamie LeBlanc (plainsimplegarak_at_yahoo.com)
Date: Sat Feb 09 2008 - 20:27:16 PST
"Nutshell" (Continued from "Believe it or Not")
~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: USS STONEHENGE
Stardate: 2.80209.2330
Scene: Holodeck
~*~*~*~*~*~
Phia blinked her hazel eyes and was quiet for a
long time. "Because believe it or not, I actually care
what happens to the two of you." Shrugging her
shoulders she said, "And it's not my fault both of you
are too stupid to care what happens to yourselves."
Aerdan’s sapphire eyes flashed indignantly. “On
what basis do you found that statement?”
The Bolian counselor blinked lazily. “Come now,
I bring you to a representation of what is widely
considered the most beautiful planet in the known
galaxy and all you two can say about it is it is hot,
and green. Those are symptoms of people who have
stopped caring.”
“But that’s all it is… is a representation.”
Iszhlana folded her arms across her chest. “It isn’t
real.”
Phia smiled slightly. “How do we know that any
of this is real? Or that we all aren’t in some grand
dream?” That statement earned her a glare from the
CMO. “When it comes down to it, it is all stimulus
and reaction. And both of your reactions are severely
depressed.”
“Maybe Risa isn’t the ideal location for every
race in the galaxy.” Aerdan muttered.
The counselor wagged a finger at him. “I have it
on good authority from Ishe that you can deal with,
even enjoy warm climates when the mood suits you. She
even said you went swimming.” Aerdan scowled a bit at
Phia, and said nothing, so she cheerily continued with
her diagnosis. “So I am forced to conclude that your
response is indicating that you are seeking physical
comforts to compensate for a lack of mental comfort.”
“You sounds pretentiously like Cade Foster.” The
Andorian grumbled.
“Ah, but despite what a jackass Cade is, he’s
often right, isn’t he?” the counselor grinned back.
Aerdan frowned. “Only when he can get over
himself.”
“This is a stupid conversation.” The Assistant
Security Chief muttered.
Phia perked a slight brow, the smile not leaving
her face. “Would you care to suggest a change of
topic?” she asked sweetly.
Arms still folded across her chest, the little
Alterian’s cheeks turned very pink, even as the color
naturally drained from the rest of her body leaving a
light silvery tone. “No, I don’t” When she finally
spoke her words were clipped and tense. “I don’t want
to talk to anybody right now. I would rather be left
alone.”
Phia shrugged lightly. “Fine, I’ll hound Aerdan
first.”
The Andorian’s snowy brows knitted. “Lovely.”
“Look at the bright side, you’ll be done first.”
The counselor gave him a dashing grin.
He stared stonily forward; his voice was light
and soft. “I have already told you that I have no
interest or desire to speak with you.”
“Yes, so I seem to remember.” She leaned back
and stared lazily up at the holographic sky as the sun
started to slip towards the horizon. “But we’re not
going anywhere.” She stretched a bit, adding
enigmatically, “and the sun is setting.”
Iszhlana furrowed her brow at that statement.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, putting
her hands on her hips.
Phia shrugged, evenly. “Just that this program
provides an assortment of nocturnal wildlife to keep
us company.”
Izzie looked skeptical. “Dangerous nocturnal
wildlife?” she queried.
The counselor didn’t reply, she just gave an even
smile.
Aerdan shook his head, turning away. “This is
madness,” he accused.
“Is it?” the Bolian countered evenly, getting to
her feet. “If I’m simply working without a reason,
why don’t you come back here and talk?”
He whirled, narrowing his eyes at her. “And what
in the world would you like me to talk about?”
She smiled evenly back. “Getting a bit testy,
are we doctor?
The CMO shook his head, turning to peer into the
growing haze. “No. I haven’t even started to get
testy yet, counselor.”
Phia shook her head slightly. “You are wound
more tightly than the prey of an Aldeberan boa
constrictor. I’m amazed you haven’t snapped yet.”
He turned back to face her, his voice sounding
stretched and ragged. “And what is that supposed to
mean?”
“That you’re a walking control-freak who can’t
seem to act on any of his feelings negative or
positive.” She shot back, her brows going low over
her hazel eyes.
Aerdan rolled his eyes. There she went with the
insults again. “Then tell me, what exactly am I
supposed to act upon.”
Phia shrugged, lazily. “Let’s take Cade Foster
for example. Haven’t you ever wanted to hit him?”
The Andorian shook his head a little. “Everyone
in sickbay wants to hit Cade Foster at one point of
another – with the possible exception of Marcus Ford
who is a verifiable saint – but that doesn’t mean any
of us will.”
“Why haven’t you? What holds you back?” Phia
kept a thin smirk crossing her features. “I hit him.”
Aerdan glared slightly. “Because when it comes
right down to it, I don’t really want to hit Cade.
Because I understand who he is and why he says what he
says and why he acts like such a jackass at times.
And I don’t really mind it.”
The smirk hadn’t faded. “So if not Cade, what
about Thal Pleo?”
“What about Thal Pleo?” Aerdan had started to
pace, his antennae twitching slightly.
“You chose to act against himer, didn’t you?”
She blinked, watching him, keenly.
“This conversation is over. I’m leaving.” He
spat back.
The counselor shook her head lightly. “You can’t
leave yet, I still control the program.”
The surgeon gave her a short, venomous stare.
“Watch me.” He turned and walked past her, out
towards the forest.
The Bolian hybrid reached out to grab his upper
arm, in a halfhearted gesture of pulling him back.
She fully expected him to simply slip free and
continue marching off into the growing darkness. She
wouldn’t stop him, but at least when she had to save
his sorry ass from the forest predators she could
fully say ‘I told you so.’ She didn’t expect him to
turn on her.
He spun around like a blue blur, and grabbed the
counselor by the lapels. Despite their size
difference, the smaller man had more strength than his
thin frame belied, particularly when his passion was
behind his actions. Izshlana stood up with a start,
ready to run and pry him back, but Phia gave her a
warning look not to interfere. Aerdan swung her
around, off balance, and pinned her up against the
nearest tree, staring up into her face. She wasn’t
sure he could shout before that moment, she had never
heard him raise his voice above a thin lisp but his
next two words made her ears ring.
“SHUT UP!” Antennae straight up and quavering,
Aerdan rolled his fists outwards, tightening on her
uniform. “You want angry? Now you got angry.” His
eyes darkened as his voice fell back to a low tone,
clear and unerringly candid. “Do you know what I
want?”
Phia took in a breath not lashing out… yet.
“What do you want, doctor?”
“I want everybody to stop telling me what the
hell to do. And I don’t mean in a chain of command
orders sort of way. I am sick and tired of all you
bastards trying to tell me how I should conduct my
life. I put up with it for 27 years on Andor, and
I’ll be damned if I’ll take it now. Not from my
brother, not from you, and certainly not from the
Nocturians.”
“Nocturians?” Phia queried, it was the one part
of the equations she didn’t understand.
“Yes. Nocturians. A race where a select few
members have decided that their precious drug
A’avenette is the perfect way to control those who
don’t support your train of thought. You can erase
memory; you can add dreams so real that they will
believe. You can rewrite another person’s psyche to
bend to your will. Very convenient.” He paused,
taking in a ragged breath.
The counselor shook her head a little. “No one
is preventing you from acting as you please.”
“Bullshit, counselor. I have just spent nearly a
week in a dungeon, so the very last thing I would like
right now is to be locked in a holodeck. But you want
to do this your way.”
“My way is working, though.” She smirked a
little.
“So did Thal and Zipa Pleo’s way until there was
outside intervention. Just because you got results
doesn’t mean you’re correct.” He shook his head a
bit, and released his grip, stepping back from both
her and the tree. Shaking out his hands, he turned
and resumed pacing.
“You never answered my question about Thal Pleo.”
Phia reminded in a dry tone.
“I didn’t see why the hell it was important.” The
CMO replied sternly.
“Because if you’ll remember I was speaking before
about destruction?” she took in a slow breath. She
really hated asking things this bluntly; but by now
she had figured out that with the CMO you didn’t just
need a carrot, you needed a crowbar. “So perhaps you
could tell me what your little act of destruction was
all about? Why shear off hiser hair, doctor?”
“Shouldn’t that be blatantly obvious?” he snapped
back in his whisper-thin voice.
Phia perked a thin dark brow. “An eye for an
eye… that actually doesn’t sound much like you doctor.
No, in fact I think you’re hoping I’ll swallow the
obvious to let you off the hook. But I’m actually
interested in the truth, and not whatever convenient
explanations you choose to spit out to try to avoid
it.”
Frowning, Aerdan walked closer to her, his eyes
boring into her hazel ones. “What exactly do you want
me to say about it? Thal Pleo was a blind, murderous
fool who gladly assisted in things that could have
brought about the genocide of hiser own race.”
She didn’t break his gaze for a second. “Then
do you think he/she got what he/she deserved?”
“No.” The word came out unedited and fierce.
“Not for a second.” When it was clear that Phia
wouldn’t let that statement go to rest, he sucked in a
breath and added, “His people seemed to think Thal and
Zipa were both heroes; interested in the preservation
of their people. They conveniently forgot that they
enjoyed torturing and killing members of their own
clan who opposed them, killed an entire generation of
hatchlings, and created a natural disaster in Bogozh
plain that could blow up and destroy half the
continent if they aren’t careful. But we don’t have
jurisdiction there… we don’t get to say what is fair
and what isn’t. I’m not one for butting into other
races affairs, but I know what is morally wrong when I
see it. Thal Pleo was a petty, filthy, honorless
bastard.” He paused and took another step closer to
Phia, a ruble of deep-seated anger flashing in his
eyes. “And to be completely honest with you
counselor, I wish I could have slit hiser throat
instead of cutting his hair.”
The counselor watched him back, very calmly. “In
all technicality, Doctor, you had every chance to.”
“I had Rharn’s eyes boring holes in the back of
my head…” he tossed back.
“I highly doubt even if we were all gone that you
would have killed himer.” She challenged.
“Why? Because I’m a doctor?” He gave a bitter
little laugh. “You’re probably right. They train us
doctors to be pacifistic, caring people.” He paused,
thoughtfully, pacing slightly. “There are a lot of
good little Starfleet doctors out there who would try
to help in all circumstances, and offer care - even to
their bitterest enemy. And at times I try to be like
them. I try not to judge patients on who they are,
but how to help them; but there was a point in that
dungeon; in the gloom, with the blood so thick on my
hands that it was like grease sliding down the bars, I
looked back at Thal Pleo, and I drew a line. I hated
himer, and he/she hated me; and I would have no
problems watching him die and not lifting a finger to
help.”
He paused, catching a breath, going on in his
light voice. “I’m sure that violates most any medical
oath out there, but I can’t understand how other
doctors pine away at such decisions. They will try to
save the lives of those who try to kill them – and
it’s not a racial misunderstanding; they believe it is
their moral duty to preserve life, even the lives of
the vilest criminals. And yet they can also take the
feeling of moral superiority away and stare at their
patients with the aura of ‘I am a good person who
saves lives.’ I am not a good person, counselor.
You’re wrong… had I faced Thal a day sooner, I would
have cut his throat; and it was only my own internal
sense of control… or fear of losing control that
stopped me. Not shame, or fear of the deed or regret
or belief in Starfleet decorum.”
“Does that frighten you?” the Bolian hybrid shot
back evenly.
“A little.” He replied candidly. “It comes
dangerously close to the idea of doctors playing God
by choosing lives, but on the other hand, I will *not*
sit idly by and watch as innocent people get murdered.
I will do whatever it takes to save what I feel is
worthwhile.” The CMO paused, pacing a little. “The
problem isn’t always what I feel… but how others
perceive it. I said before, no one wants to know that
their doctor is weak, and no one wants to know that
their doctor might not be the kind, gentle, loving
soul they all expect.” He smirked momentarily, “Cade
Foster not included.”
Phia folded her arms over her chest.
“Personally, I think it’s rather nice to be on a ship
where all the doctors aren’t suffering from a severe
case of naiveté.” She took in a breath, “but what I
want to know is do you regret your decisions?”
He leveled his eyes up at her, and spoke one word
with unerring certainty. “No. In and of myself, I
don’t regret.” He let his antennae relax very
slightly. “That doesn’t mean everyone agrees with
me.” He paused, his mind going back to ANDALUSIA, and
how his solution seemed to drive a wedge between
himself and Doctor MacNeill. “I suppose that brings
us full circle to the control question. You can
control your own actions but not other’s perceptions.”
“Have you confronted them on their perceptions?”
the Bolian asked back, bluntly.
“There was no one left to confront. Those who
had a problem simply… ran away.” There was a tinge of
sorrow in his voice. “I don’t regret the choices I
made, but I do regret what I lost because others could
not be comfortable with the aftermath.”
“I see.” The counselor said in a somewhat quiet
tone, mulling that all over before turning towards the
Alterian security officer. Izzie, for her part, had
been slinking off towards the trees to hide. “Don’t
think I have forgotten about you, Ensign. I haven’t.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
NRPG: I’m a few hours late in sending this >.< But
there ya go, some catharsis!
Joy/Sarah: Tags!
~*~*~*~*~*~
Jamie LeBlanc
Lieutenant Aerdan Jos
Chief Medical Officer
USS STONEHENGE
"Why do we fly? Because we have dreamt of it for so long that we must"
~Julian Beck
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