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archives:walking_wounded [2021/01/10 23:11] – site_adminarchives:walking_wounded [2021/01/11 00:05] – site_admin
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 <BOOKMARK:Chapter32> <BOOKMARK:Chapter32>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 32: Resolutions & Reservations**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:walking_wounded#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\  <fs x-large>**Chapter 32: Resolutions & Reservations**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:walking_wounded#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\ 
 +
 +fter his intense conversation with Doctor Yezbeck, Leon left the sickbay with the same "get out of my way" march through the corridor he gave when he left it the previous morning when Hawk died on the diagnostic bed. Those unlucky enough to be in the hallway when the doctor passed had to divert towards the wall to avoid being bulldozed. Fortunately, when he arrived at the turbolift, the doors parted quickly enough so that he did not crash through them. Spinning around, Leon shouted his destination.
 +
 +"Bridge!"
 +
 +The silence in the turbolift was only interrupted by the hum of the maglift engine as the cab slipped through the conveyor system on it's way to the destination. Leon had almost hoped there would have been someone in the car so he could grumble at them, but his anger subsided as he found it rather silly to fume when he was the only audience. As his pulse slowed and blood pressure returned to normal, he stared to regain his composure when an electronic whisper sounded over the hum of the lift.
 +
 +"You were a little hard on Saal," Shannon commented.
 +
 +Leon closed his eyes in recognition of the voice. "I suppose I should start getting used to that," he replied calmly, referring to Doctor Harris' holographic entrance.
 +
 +"Don't think I was eavesdropping in your office," she remarked. "The whole sickbay heard you dress him down."
 +
 +With a sigh, Leon admitted his temperamental outburst. "I know, but I couldn't let it slide. Not this time. I'm happy that Hawk is alive, but . . . all this secrecy surrounding his death . . . I *hate* mysteries . . ."
 +
 +"I know," Shannon consoled him.
 +
 +Leon's frown returned with an appearance of confusion as he suddenly realized something. "Wait a minute," he puzzled over Shannon's appearance. "The Mark 19's holomatrix can't be used in a turbolift," he finally observed. "I reviewed the design specs after I took over the CMO position last year, and the holographic projection system can only be used in specific areas of the ship."
 +
 +"There a difference between the *Republic's* holomatrix and *Saratoga's* holomatrix," Shannon explained. "The Republic system is newer, and is only installed within specific compartments of the ship that are vital to maintain operations, like engineering and the bridge. They're task-specific holo-projectors, linked together within their own computer network routed through sickbay. It's the Starfleet standard that's used on other ships with similar sickbay facilities. The Saratoga system, on the other hand, is older, and runs parallel with the ship's communication system, reaching every nook and cranny of Republic."
 +
 +"On the saucer section," Leon corrected her presumptively. "The newer stardrive section only has the Republic holo-projectors, right?"
 +
 +"Actually, no," Shannon stated. "The old Saratoga system was originally meant to double as a holographic communications system. Very similar to what's in the Defiant-class vessels, but more extensive so as to reach the rest of the ship. It was meant to be modular, upgradable, and compatible with standard intercom components. When the new stardrive was connected, all that the ship's main computer had to do was upgrade the software in the com-panels and the old holomatrix had access."
 +
 +"You mean everywhere there's an intercom panel, the Sara's intra-ship holomatrix is tied in?" For a brief moment, Leon forgot about his anger about Nat's fake death, and his mind focused again on the puzzle of Shannon's unique predicament.
 +
 +"Yes," she replied. "It utilizes the optical A/V circuits of the computer screen and control panel. If it can be tied in to the main computer, my program has access, and I can project myself into that area."
 +
 +"So," Leon speculated, "if the Mark 19 was given access to Saratoga's holomatrix, could it also project itself into the same areas of the ship as you?"
 +
 +"I don't think so. His software is encoded to prevent cross-platform programming conflicts. Although it makes him less prone to diagnostic errors, he's not very flexible. However, my program is much more dynamic, and can readily utilize different types of computer systems and holographic hardware."
 +
 +"This is going to take some getting used to," Leon grumbled.
 +
 +"You'll get used to it," Shannon smiled. "By the way . . . thanks."
 +
 +"For what?"
 +
 +"For accepting me for who I am."
 +
 +"Hmph," snorted Leon, rolling his eyes. "I've had more than my fair share of computers telling me how to run my sickbay. At least I can actually *reason* with one of them for a change." It was clear he was honored by Shannon's vote of confidence, and his curmudgeonly-laced attitude was obviously overplayed to amuse her.
 +
 +As the doors to the turbolift parted, Doctors Cromwell and Harris entered the main bridge and headed to the captain's ready room.
 +
 +"Here we go," Leon sighed, pressing the entry buzzer.
 +
 +As the doors parted, Leon and Shannon saw John Carter standing in front of the captain's desk, arms folded, and his face bearing an expression of consternation. Captain Roth, however, seemed much more relaxed; her elbows propped up on the desk, and clasped hands supporting her chin. Wearing an amused grin, the captain greeted the newcomers.
 +
 +"Well, speak of the devil."
 +
 +"I'll wait out here," Shannon commented before turning away from the door. "Let me know when the conversation turns to . . . other matters."
 +
 +Leon nodded before turning back to the captain. ". . . devil?" he questioned while walking into the ready room.
 +
 +"It's an old Earth expression," Roth replied. "It means we've been talking about you."
 +
 +"Yes, well, it seems old Earth expressions are common here on Republic," Leon commented with a touch of sarcasm. "In fact, Nat Hawk just used several of them himself when we talked a moment ago in sickbay. While I still don't know exactly what his words meant, knowing Nat, they were probably meant to be vulgar or insulting. Considering that he shouldn't have been talking at all, I'm inclined to use a few of them myself about now."
 +
 +Leon took up a similar pose as John in front of the captain's desk; arms folded, and with a "what-have-you-got-to-say-for-yourself" expression on his face.
 +
 +"I see Doctor Bashir wasted no time in informing you of our little secret when I told him it was safe to do so."
 +
 +"Perhaps you'd rather have him be your chief medical officer, instead?"
 +
 +"Leon . . ." Carter interrupted him with a cautionary tone.
 +
 +"It's okay, commander," Roth interjected. "If I were in his position, I'd be angry too."
 +
 +"I don't see anything to be angry about," Leon replied, shrugging his shoulders, and his sarcasm rising from suggestive to outright obvious. "I only had a close colleague die on my operating table. Then, along with the rest of the crew, I was simply tricked into a faux funeral while my medical staff went behind my back and used questionable medical practices to bring a dead person back to life. That's all. I don't see a problem with it." Leon turned to John. "Do you?"
 +
 +John smirked slightly. "Well, I don't know that I'm in a position to throw stones just now, Doc."
 +
 +Leon huffed in frustration. "Oh," he paused. "That? That's nothing," he offered with a casual wave.
 +
 +Roth's attention shifted between the two officers. "I hate it when I feel like I'm missing something," she muttered.
 +
 +"Well," Leon shot back, hiding MOST of his anger, "I don't imagine THAT'S pleasant at all!"
 +
 +Roth leaned back in her chair. "Here's a proposal gentlemen," she offered. "Let's just assume that there are reasons for everything that's going on here," she leveled her gaze at Carter, "Whatever that might be," she looked back at Cromwell, "and I will promise not to be insulted when you feel the need to tell me how insulting and 'damned unprofessional' I might have been."
 +
 +"Works for me, Captain," Carter offered.
 +
 +"Wait!? Leon cried, shooting an 'are you crazy' glance to John. "That's it? You're just going to sit down and say 'Ok' to all this? I should think you'd be furious!"
 +
 +Carter nodded. "Oh, I'm not happy Doc," he explained, "but the woman does know how to make her case. You should at least listen to her."
 +
 +Leon took a seat at the desk-side sofa as he let out a series of sub-audible grumbles. Across the table, Roth nodded. "Thank you, Doctor."
 +
 +"Now, let me say from the start that I am genuinely sorry that I had to keep this plan from the two of you," Leon bowed up as if he were about to comment, but Roth met his gaze with the briefest pause and a raised eyebrow. The doctor received the non-verbal message, and chose to remain silent.
 +
 +"It would be too easy to say that there are things neither of you needed to know," she explained. "None the less, that is the truth, and while I will apologize for needing to do it, you should both know that, given the same options, there is nothing I would do differently."
 +
 +Leon could feel gorge rising in his gut, and couldn't hold his temper any longer. "Then what the hell am I doing here?" he blurted before he realized what he had just said. "I guess you just run your damned Shadow Cabinet and let me know when I?m allowed to treat your paper cuts!"
 +
 +Next to the Doctor, Republic's XO, tilted his head, glaring at his friend, careful to let the right amount of "command voice" give weight to his words. "Leon," he said firmly. "Listen. To. Her."
 +
 +It was not a request.
 +
 +"I've explained to Commander Carter that my deception in his case specifically was crucial," continued the captain. "And I believe he understands why I decided to proceed as I did. I also feel that it was crucial to this plan's success that you, Doctor Cromwell had to be lied to."
 +
 +Leon's eyebrow arched in surprise. "Well, this should be good!" he muttered.
 +
 +"Plausible deniability, doctor." Roth said simply. "Let's say for a moment that my plan to 'kill' Lieutenant Hawk had ended differently; that he could not be saved, or that the assassin were either not ferreted out, or took someone else with him. In that case, 'Fleet would be crying bloody murder for a scapegoat. A duty that not only I, but Doctors Bashir and Yezbeck would have been able to perform, leaving Mister Carter and yourself in position to not only keep the remaining crew safe, but also take care of whatever loose ends might have cropped up."
 +
 +Resting on Roth's shoulder, Smoke "bleeked". "Yes," Roth nodded with a smile, "that includes you, Stinker."
 +
 +Leon waved his hand in front of his face. "Now, hold on," he said, keeping his voice in check. "Don't make this into some twisted, noble act. You deliberately kept me out of the loop, and just a few days ago, you told all of us that secrets would get us killed!"
 +
 +Roth felt the sting of her own words forced back at her. Leon was exactly right. After what had come to be called the "Ensign Kuga Debacle", most of Republic's crew had had their fill of secret projects, black-box tech and the words "need to know". Roth pushed the distaste away with a grim shake of her head.
 +
 +"Poor timing on my part Doctor," she explained, "But at least this way, the crew can hate me, and not all of us."
 +
 +Leon still wasn't buying it, and he let his displeasure show. "That's kind of you, Captain, but?"
 +
 +"But, it's not enough, Doctor?" she shot back. "All right, how's this." Roth leaned forward. "I just told Carter, and I might as well tell you . . . I know damned well that I'm only a visitor on this ship."
 +
 +"What?"
 +
 +"Commander Carter has kept this ship together through thick and thin, and you, Doctor, are his conscience. If either of you had lied to the crew, that would be the end of this ship as we know it. But starship captains lie all the time. We have to. And so do you."
 +
 +"Ex-CUSE me, Captain?" Leon again blurted out in consternation.
 +
 +"You've never told a dying man he was fine, just to ease his passing?" she asked frankly, more quietly this time. "Told a grieving mother or son that you'd do everything you could, even though nothing could be done? As I said Doctor, I?m not asking you to like it, nor do I expect you to. I'll even accept that you can't fully trust me anymore, but my reasons were well founded, and your staff did their jobs beyond all expectation." Roth straightened up and exhaled, letting out a heavy sigh. "From a certain point of view, you should be proud."
 +
 +"A certain point of view?"
 +
 +"It's been my experience Doctor that, despite whatever Fleet might want the Middies to believe, serving out here is very rarely black and white. At any rate, I'm sure I'll answer to my maker when She reads from my book."
 +
 +"Well, I've never been a Middie, and I've been dealing with shades of gray each time I've had to deal with Starfleet," the doctor replied. "Lord knows why I've actually decided to take the bridge officers test, but if I had to guess, it's out of obligation and trust."
 +
 +Again, Roth arched her eyebrow.
 +
 +"That's right," Leon emphasized. "Trust. I'm fully aware that there are forces in Fleet that are steering the entire Federation towards a black hole, and during my short stay on Earth last year, I was apprised of them by a distant relative."
 +
 +Carter frowned, and looked towards his friend. "You never mentioned to me anything about that."
 +
 +"Ignorance is bliss, John," Leon added. "Anyway, trust is a big issue with me ever since I reported on board, and since you were introduced to us by our mutual friend, Admiral Kostya, I've had my eye on you. I'll admit that I was impressed with how you handled the incident with the Tholians, and my respect for you blossomed when you made that speech after the Kuga-Jenkins fiasco. But now . . ." He shook his head. "I just don't know . . . you turned my staff against me . . . made me think that a friend died on my operating table . . . let the whole damned ship think he was dead. It sounds like something Kostya would do."
 +
 +Roth's look of interest slowly faded to stoicism when Leon mentioned Kostya's name, and her reaction to the doctor's last few words caused her face to contort into a cold, penetrating scowl. As the captain slowly leaned forward, the atmosphere in the ready room turned frosty enough for Smoke to scramble off her shoulder and seek refuge on the nearby bookshelf.
 +
 +"You're out of line, doctor."
 +
 +Leon had found her sore spot, and he knew it. He got up from the couch to face her with a similar posture by placing his hands on her desk. He was determined to get to the bottom of the ultimate question on his mind. With his voice rising, Leon put his cards on the table. "Are you, or are you not, still working for Kostya?"
 +
 +"Is that what you think?" the captain returned.
 +
 +"Sit down, doctor . . ." Carter interjected, but Leon reacted as if he didn't hear him.
 +
 +"Yes," Leon said coolly. "That's what I think . . ."
 +
 +"I said SIT DOWN!"
 +
 +Slowly, Leon retreated back to the couch, maintaining his glare at Captain Roth.
 +
 +"As captain," Roth started after a pause, "I could have simply told you to do exactly as I say on all these past mission, and thrown you in the brig had you disobeyed my orders. THAT is the sign of Kostya, doctor . . . blind obedience. The fear of god. I don't believe I've ever . . . EVER . . . tried to control your thoughts and feelings. Point in fact, I've tolerated your emotional behavior. I've even supported it, though it may have been borderline insubordinate."
 +
 +"I don't act insubordinate unless I have a good reason," he retorted. "And you still haven't answered my question."
 +
 +"No," Roth said, her scowl becoming less pronounced. "I don't work for Kostya. Not anymore. I fell out with him the moment I refused to abandon the Republic while we were fighting the Tholians."
 +
 +"What?" Leon exclaimed. John smirked with an 'I-told-you-so' grin at the doctor's reaction to the news.
 +
 +"During the fight with the Tholians, I received an eyes-only emergency communication from Kostya in my ready room. He ordered me to evacuate the crew to the saucer section, separate the ship, and report back to the Alpha Quadrant with the stardrive."
 +
 +The shock in Doctor Cromwell's eyes was genuine. "I don't believe it!"
 +
 +"Neither did I," Roth replied. "At first, I thought he was joking. But considering he chose to use the security frequency to hide any recording, he probably thought he had backed me into a corner and that I would be forced to follow his orders."
 +
 +"That's lunacy!" the medical officer exclaimed. "That man is reprehensible! He couldn't honestly expect anyone with any integrity to follow those orders!" Leon paused as he suddenly realized what he had said, and how he had contradicted himself regarding his attitude towards the captain.
 +
 +Roth's smile returned, and John's never faded as he enjoyed the moment where his friend stumbled over his own words.
 +
 +"Trust me, doc. She's on our side," John finally said as a bewildered Leon struggled between the incredulity of Kostya's orders and the realization of just how bad a black eye Roth had given the admiral. As he allowed the doctor to digest the new information, Carter took a seat in the chair next to the captain's desk.
 +
 +"I'm sorry, captain," Leon finally offered.
 +
 +"Apology accepted."
 +
 +"I suppose Kostya's not too happy with you . . ."
 +
 +"Put simply, he's out for blood," she said ominously. "Hence our reassignment to DS9 and out of the main Starfleet operational command structure. We're out of his reach . . . for now."
 +
 +"That's why we've been assigned out here for so long . . ." Leon added as facts came together.
 +
 +"And why I chose to take action now with regard Hawk. We're essentially cut off from the media cycle." Roth sat back and relaxed a bit, feeling that the turbulent part of the conversation had passed. "And in addition, we're cut off from 'Fleet, at least, if we want to be."
 +
 +Carter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, we what? Map a few star clusters? Lick our wounds?"
 +
 +Roth nodded. "And take stock." She glanced at both her officers. "We've got a new status quo aboard."
 +
 +"Indeed we do," Cromwell said wryly. Carter huffed in equal parts preparation and frustration.
 +
 +"Something ELSE I need to know, Commander?" Roth asked, pointedly.
 +
 +Carter let his head hang for a beat, then looked up at his commanding officer. "No time like the present." He admitted. "I was hoping this would be a non-issue," he said, in the closest thing John Carter ever got to contrite, "but seeing as how we're clearing the air. There's something you should know about Doctor . . . about Shannon."
 +
 +Roth raised an eyebrow. "Well, I certainly don't object to the relationship, XO," Roth offered. "Doctor Harris is no longer a bridge officer, and she falls squarely under Doctor Cromwell's chain of command. So . . ." Roth stopped short, as her mind considered why Carter might have brought up the issue. "She's . . . not . . . I certainly hope you're not leaving?"
 +
 +Carter chuckled. "No, nothing like that," he said. "She's uh . . . Shannon's . . ."
 +
 +A wash of photons, and the accompanying whine of a hologram field made the air in Roth's Ready Room crackle for an instant as Doctor Shannon Harris materialized in front of Republic's Captain.
 +
 +"I'm an experimental ship-wide interactive hologram, Captain."
 +
 +Resting on the bookshelf behind Roth's chair, Smoke bleeked in surprise.
 +
 +Roth's expression was completely deadpan, but whether that was by choice or out of disbelief, no one could say. "Apparently so," she commented, looking over Shannon with a careful eye, as if inspecting her for something out of place. The idea that one of her officers was a computer-generated non-corporeal life form did not appear to faze the captain in the least bit, much to the surprise of John and Leon.
 +
 +Finally, Roth turned her attention to Carter. "How long have you known?"
 +
 +"For sure?" he pondered, "Just after the dust-up with the Tholians. There were odd things before that, but that was when I knew for sure."
 +
 +Roth leaned forward, placing her hands flat on the desk. "And you didn't think it necessary to inform me that one of my officers was not real?"
 +
 +Harris crossed her arms in front of her. "I think that Voyager's Doctor and Commander Data would . . . well, would have disagreed with you Captain." Harris said. "My program is completely separate from the ship's computer, though we do have some hardware systems in common. However," she said somewhat coldly. "My conclusions, actions and . . . feelings," she said, with a click glance toward Carter, "Are completely my own."
 +
 +Roth looked at the redheaded hologram sidelong. "A . . . poor choice of words on my part, Doctor." Roth offered. "As it happens, I've read most of the papers regarding holographic sentience. I used to be a scientist if you recall. For what it's worth, I agree, at least in principle, with classifying you as an independent, sentient life-form, but how you function on board this ship does introduce some . . . complications."
 +
 +"Go on," Shannon said with a nod. It was clear that she was determined to have the captain focus on her and not the other two gentlemen, as if to underline her argument for equal treatment.
 +
 +"Provided that Doctor Cromwell has no objections to your continuing to serve in your present capacity?"
 +
 +Leon stopped for a moment. "I have none, Captain. Though, with Doctor Harris' permission I would like to disable the EMH, so that there will be no further conflicts with the sickbay holo-grid. Ideally, I'd like to have Doctor Harris now function as the ship's EMH in addition to her normal duties."
 +
 +"Makes sense to me," Harris offered, surprised, but not quite bothered at the turn of events.
 +
 +"Then the only other thing I'm going to insist upon is that you no longer hide your status from the rest of the crew. I'm not saying you have to make an announcement, or wear an 'H' on you forehead," Roth explained. "But you must no longer actively deceive the men and women you serve with."
 +
 +"I can do that, Captain." Shannon said simply. "But what if some of the crew have reservations about me being their physician?"
 +
 +"If they wear a Starfleet uniform, then tell them to come talk to me directly," the captain said with a touch of deviousness in her voice. "If they're a civilian crewmember, tell them they have their choice of physicians in sickbay, but remind them that you have the full confidence of the captain to independently practice medicine on my ship." Roth regarded Carter for a long second. "Are you all right with all of this, Carter?"
 +
 +Again, Carter chuckled. "Well, I'm sure I'll get no end of grief from Hawk," John admitted, "but if it comes down to it, I'll just remind him that he had to get his life saved by a girl. That ought to buy me some time. Uh . . . no offense, ladies."
 +
 +"None taken," Roth offered with an amused grin.
 +
 +"We can talk about this later, John," Harris said with a smile.
 +
 +Roth clapped her hands against the surface of the desk. "Crisis averted for now, then?"
 +
 +"I suppose," Cromwell offered grudgingly.
 +
 +"I'll wait five minutes, Captain," Carter said. "Something's bound to change."
 +
 +Roth's face turned in a scowl. "No doubt. I'll be scheduling a briefing regarding our next assignment, after I've had a chance to debrief Lieutenant Hawk. See you all at 1400, Wednesday."
 +
 +"Aye Captain." Came the chorused response as the three officers shuffled out of the captain's office.
 +
 +On the bridge, Leon and Shannon turned towards the turbolift while John started in the direction of the command pit when he paused. "Oh, and Leon," he beckoned to his friend, "don't think any of this changes your exam date."
 +
 +"Are you kidding?" the doctor froze in the open turbolift door, shooting John a wide-eyed, incredulous look. "That's in two days! With everything that's happened, I think I've earned myself a postponement!"
 +
 +"Not a bit of it, doc," John shook his head. "If you're not ready by now, you'll never be. Recent events have only emphasized how much we need another qualified bridge officer that the captain and I can hand duties off to. That test is the only thing standing in the way."
 +
 +"You know better than anyone else what I've been through! Can't you make an exception?"
 +
 +"I don't play favorites," John said, continuing his walk into the command pit where he relieved Lieutenant Merrick at the center seat. "You have forty-eight hours. Ready or not."
 +
 +Without another word, Leon walked sulkily into the turbolift where Doctor Harris was waiting patiently.
 +
 +"Need help studying, commander?" she asked him teasingly, more for the reaction than for anything else.
 +
 +"Don't YOU start!" he grumbled, just as the doors slid shut.
 +\\ 
 +\\ 
 +\\ 
 +**Location: Armory watch desk, deck 5, USS Republic**
 +
 +There were a lot of misconceptions about the Tactical Branch of Starfleet. The first was that they were all trigger-happy adrenaline junkies, or thickheaded robots that just wanted to blow things up. In reality, since the merging of the starship combat role of the helmsman and the planet-side responsibilities of the old "Security" branch were folded into `Fleet's Tactical Branch, the job had become many different things.
 +
 +First and foremost, like almost everyone else on a starship, a Tactical Officer was a problem-solver, and just now, John Carter had a big, Vulcan-looking problem in his brig. Republic's Martian XO folded his arms across his chest, and tilted his head down toward the deck plates. "Zoë," he asked Republic's Tactical head, "are you telling me that..." he waved a hand toward the young Vulcan crewman who was still stewing in the brig, where Zoë had only just left her "She isn't who we thought she was...AGAIN?"
 +
 +"No, Sir. She claims to be Arria, Daughter of Morverik, deceased years ago."
 +
 +Carter shook his head in disbelief. "So, whom DOES she work for? If she's not Starfleet Intelligence, or if they aren't admitting it, then what?"
 +
 +"She claims to be from the Office of Special Intelligence, which would explain why she has two facades. If this Arria was the real person, they would have the ability to falsify her record."
 +
 +"Well, I guess that makes some sense. But I've never even HEARD of this, O-S-I" Carter admitted. "What I want to know is who she REALLY is, and more importantly, how the Hell did you put this all together? Black Shirts aren't the types to leave clues lying around.
 +
 +"I, uh...looked under the right rocks?" Zoë asked sarcastically. "It really was basic stuff. Checking through some old logs, figuring out WHO knew what I didn't, and... well, not settling for not knowing. The real break came when the quantum signature of the weapon she used wasn't quite right."
 +
 +"You thought to check the QUANTUM signature?" Carter asked. "Why?"
 +
 +"Well," Zoë explained. "I know my weapons, and what she was using was neither a phaser, disruptor, or compressor rifle. It was CLOSE to a phaser, but was ACTUALLY kind of a mix of all three. There was just something about it that didn't smell right, so dug a little more."
 +
 +Carter smiled in admiration of the young officer. While he was many things, John liked to think that chief among them was honest, and if he looked at himself honestly, he had to admit that detective work was not his strong suit. `Nope,' he said silently to himself as Zoë explained the heretofore-unknown facts behind Nat Hawk's shadowy benefactor, `there is NO WAY I would have figured that out.'
 +
 +"Surprisingly, she divulged most of the information about the case, her assignment here, and her orders, but the specific orders or who assigned her I have not been able to retrieve from her, nor is she divulging.
 +
 +She stated that she was assigned here to watch over Lieutenant Hawk for the information that he held. She stated that her orders also gave her a clause to eliminate any threat to him, past or present that may attack."
 +
 +"Past or...?" Carter's voice trailed off.
 +
 +"She's a time-traveler, or at least has access to some wicked 33rd Century tech, though I haven't pegged which era she's actually from. Since her records have doubtless been falsified AT LEAST twice, we'd probably have to get Doctor Cromwell to do a cellular analysis." Zoë let a mischievous twinkle flash in her eyes. It'd be ok with me if it hurt...a little."
 +
 +Again, Carter took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck, more out of habit than to soothe away any tension. "Ok, then. What do you recommend we do now? Captain wants us to remain in the black for the time being, but I don't want this `Operative' on my ship."
 +
 +"She is Vulcan. Technically she can't lie. However, with her being from 'Special Intelligence', she could tell us anything that she's allowed to. I might be able to do something with that.
 +
 +She was a good officer at one point, at least, if the original record is accurate. I would say, see if I can get more information out of her. Brig suits until we get home. I'm just afraid that when we get home, if she is truly SI, she'll be scooped up and out of here before we can blink our eyes."
 +
 +Zoë smiled again, indicating that she was absolutely looking forward to another `chat' with her new favorite guest. "At the moment though, we have an 'intelligence' officer that may prove to be beneficial in some sense."
 +
 +Carter nodded. "Ok, I'll take that to the Captain. In the meantime, keep an eye on our, who-ever-she-is, and make sure we keep her in lock-down. I want her at minimum contact. The last thing ANY of us need is another Kuga incident."
 +
 +"Yes, Sir. I will personally see to the arrangements."
 +
 +Carter turned on a heel as he headed for the door. "Oh, before I forget," he looked back over his shoulder. "Good work on this, Zoë. Really good work."
 +
 +"Thank you, Sir." He walked out of there and she left as well to make the necessary arrangements for the 'quarantine' of their guest.
  
 ---- ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter33> <BOOKMARK:Chapter33>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 33: After the Midnight Hour**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:walking_wounded#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\  <fs x-large>**Chapter 33: After the Midnight Hour**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:walking_wounded#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\ 
 +
 +**Location: Recovery ward, main sickbay, deck 12, USS Republic**\\ 
 +**Shiptime: 03:25 hours**
 +
 +The last time sickbay's gamma shift saw any excitement was during the incident with the Tholians several weeks ago. About a dozen serious injuries, mostly from explosive decompression, required overnight stays in the recovery ward, and so, the late-night medical crew tended to the wounded as diligently as they would at any other time during the day. However, pending unusual circumstances, gamma shift was normally quiet to the point of boring. The staff was rotated on a monthly basis, so every member of the medical crew had their chance at gamma shift, and in truth, it was a chance for the staff to unwind and relax a bit, as Doctor Cromwell had a standing order that stated: "Unless the situation dictates otherwise, the gamma shift supervisor may, at their discretion, excuse all subordinates to their liberty for on-call duty after 0300, retaining at least one nurse and one non-commissioned medical technician for the remainder of the shift."
 +
 +On this particular night, the gamma shift had only a single patient tucked away in the recovery ward, and so the tending shift supervisor, Doctor Fernmoore, excused all but Ensign Watson and CPO3 Teague for the rest of the night. The sole patient, Lieutenant Nathan Hawk, was banished to the to 13-bed recovery facility with Nurse Watson tending the nurse's station, watching Nat like a vulture from behind the transparent-aluminum partition separating the corner nook from the rest of the room. By the time 0300 rolled around, the atmosphere in sickbay became much more relaxed, as Teague was sent to rotate bed linen in the trauma center, and Watson had taken to watching Nat on an off-and-on basis, tending to other matters such as checking the pharmacy stock, or readying the medical lab for a minor scientific experiment scheduled for the next day.
 +
 +For his part, Nat was restless, as being cooped-up in a sterile environment for *any* length of time was not his cup of tea. While feigning sleep, and hoping that the tending nurse wouldn't look close enough to the monitors to see he had not entered REM, Nat carefully waited for Ensign Watson to leave one last time before sitting up in bed and pivoting himself into a sitting position. After one last glance at the empty nurse's station, he slipped his feet into a pair of slippers at the foot of the bed, and proceeded to stand up while donning his patient's robe.
 +
 +Before long, Nat found himself wandering past the empty ward supervisor's desk, and into the surgical ward hallway. The lighting throughout sickbay was at one-third illumination, as if signaling to anyone not on duty that they should be back in their quarters and in bed. As he shuffled into the main ward, Nat spied a slightly brighter illumination coming from the surgeon-on-duty desk around the corner. He froze, worried that Fernmoore might have already been informed by Nurse Watson that Nat was up and about, but as a minute passed, he heard nothing stirring in the office area, and his curiosity got the better of him. Peeking around the corner, Nat suddenly realized that the surgeon desk was empty, and the light was coming from beneath the door to Doctor Cromwell's office, forcing a wry smile to form on his face. Before he knew what he was doing, Nat had walked up to the CMO's door, causing it to slide open.
 +
 +"Well I know why I can't sleep," Hawk said from the doorway, drawing Leon's attention away from his monitor, "what's yer excuse?"
 +
 +"What are you doing up?" Leon exclaimed with a mix of irritation and genuine concern. "You're supposed to be in bed!"
 +
 +"Yeah, well, death does funny things ta ya. Insomnia, apparently, is one've 'um." Hawk replied, as he allowed Cromwell to guide him to one of the chairs across from his desk. He didn't like accepting help for such a simple thing as making his way across a room; he downright loathed the fact that he actually needed said help. As he allowed himself to breath, he contemplated the scuttle-butt he had heard from Jess concerning how his death and resurrection and everything related to it had stirred the proverbial pot aboard ship. Never having been shy to ask the uncomfortable questions in the past, he didn't hesitate now. "So ya still pissed off?" he asked his friend. "Word around town is you've got a bone ta pick with a couple of folks."
 +
 +"Yes," Leon admitted with a touch of regret. "Well, there are certain boundaries both in medicine and Starfleet protocol that were crossed lately, and as much as I'm happy to see that the results turned out positively . . ." he pointed back at Nat. "Namely you coming back from the dead . . . in my opinion, the ends cannot justify the means. So . . ." Leon looked a touch embarrassed, but his grouchy demeanor partially cloaked it. "I felt it necessary to rough a few people up. The captain included."
 +
 +Considering Leon's words for a moment, he became stuck on one item in particular. "Ya know, that's what SI, 'Fleet, just 'bout anybody doin' somethin' they can't really justify uses ta do so. 'The ends justify the means' cliché. Every once'n'awhile, I could go along with it, could understand it. Never liked it, but... I could wrap my thick head 'round it. Bet you have, too. Accepted that 'the ends justify the means' once 'er twice. How we handled things at Cestus III. How we stopped Kostya n'people like him time'n'again; violatin' orders, but doin' it cause it was the right thing, even if not by-the-book. We've all gotta make choices; choices that somewhere down the line, somebody else who ain't in that situation s'gonna judge. In a way, I s'pose that's what yer doin' here. Judgin' what the Cap'n and Bashir and Yezbeck did when ya ain't in that situation; when yer not faced with that choice yerself. Only thing is, the only way ya can really judge somethin' like that, after-the-fact, is by the true ends. The end results. Problem is, we ain't seen them end results yet, Leon." Hawk said, pausing to really look at his friend for a moment. "Me bein' alive, the assasin bein' dead... that ain't the end. The real end is Faro. The real end is the Syndicate. Takin' down the worst organized criminal organization in the known universe. Puttin' a stop ta all the death, n'pain, n'bloodshed, that they cause. Now if crossin' a couple ethical boundaries we might not otherwise cross does that... stops murder, slavery, theft, torture... stops some other 10-year-old kid from loosin' his whole family... who the hell are we ta say those ends ain't been justified?"
 +
 +Leon considered Nat's words for a moment. "God knows I've had my fill of shady characters hiding behind the rules, but while I understand that the rules have to be bent on occasion, the person who is doing the bending must realize that they're doing so at their own risk, and that they can no longer hide behind the words 'I was just following orders'. Rules were meant for people to follow them, otherwise they're just words. If people under my supervision bent the rules - especially medical ones - I can't let them get by without some sort of reprimand, no matter the outcome. If I did overlook them, everyone in here would soon start thinking that they can get away with almost anything while I'm in charge of them; that somehow, the rules would no longer apply to them anymore. Pretty soon, I'd find more and more rule violations, making my job harder because I'd have to keep track of each one in order to pick and choose which ones to reprimand. Eventually, someone will bend the rules just because they *could* get away with it, and before you know it, a patient will die for no good reason."
 +
 +"Ain't ya ever heard the old phrase 'rules were meant ta be broken'?" Hawk retorted. "Hell, sometimes, the only way outta a problem is ta break a couple rules. Look at Jim Kirk. Hell, half a his career he broke more rules n'ya can shake a warp core at n'they built statues of the man."
 +
 +"And if my memory of Federation history serves me, he also paid dearly several times for breaking the rules. My point is that if you're going to even *bend* the rules - for whatever reason - fine. But don't expect everyone to like it, and don't expect to get away with it. When it comes to Starfleet rules, I'm a bit more understanding about rule-bending, and that's probably why I was able to forgive the captain for lying to the rest of us. But when it comes to medical ethics, I'm much less tolerant, and that's why Saal is on my bad side right now. As for Bashir," Leon thought for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "He's just as much a pain in the rear-end as you," he smiled jokingly. "Only his profession isn't helm control - it's medical, and there's a certain extra standard that he needs to be held accountable to, from my point of view. That, plus the fact that he and I have a major personality conflict, makes the climate between us rather contemptible at the moment."
 +
 +"Considerin' Bashir put his life on hold ta come in here n'order ta take yer ass outta bein' put in the same spot as the Cap'n, havin' ta lie ta everybody, I'd think ya'd be a little more forgivin' of the man." Hawk challenged. "Ya don't see eye-ta-eye with him, that's yer business. Ya find him a might irritating, well, so do I. Ya could show a little understandin' though, even if ya don't like who he is 'er what he did - cause he did it ta keep you from havin' ta fight yer inner demons and havin' ta make the choice ta let me live 'er die." Hawk stated, bluntly. "As fer Saal, I think ya need ta take a step back b'fore ya throw the book at him, an ask yerself why yer really pissed at him. Cause from where I'm sittin', it's seems a helluva lot more personal than professional."
 +
 +Leon frowned and crossed his arms while leaning back in his chair. "Yeah," mumbled in stern thought. "It's personal . . . Personal in that I trusted Saal about as much as either you or John, and he let me down."
 +
 +"Don't ya get it?" Hawk asked, "Nothin' ya could've done would've saved me, Leon. I was dead. Cold, hard, stone dead. Roth knew it'd happen eventually, n'she prepared fer it. You wanna put a reprimand in Saal's file fer the sake of appearances, alright, fine. Ya gotta do somethin' as CMO ta tell yer people ta watch their P's and Q's, I get that. But ya gotta forgive him, and I don't mean professionally, I mean personally, cause seems ta me that's what's really stuck in yer craw. Yer friend, not yer subordinate, lied ta ya. Betrayed ya. But it ain't like that at all. He did what he had ta do ta save my life. He did what I sure as frinx hope you woulda done in his shoes. Because sometimes the cause is right, is important enough, ta do the things nobody wants ta do."
 +
 +"Oh hell, Nat!" Leon stood up abruptly. "I'm not going to put a damned thing in Saal's personnel file! He and I have been through too much together for me to go and do something that!" He began pacing the room in a minor huff. "But I HAD to do something! Too many people have kept too many damned secrets aboard this ship, and I wasn't expecting HIM to be one of them! He could have trusted me with what he knew, and not worked with Bashir and the Captain to keep me out of the loop! Tell me . . . go ahead and TELL me . . . that you wouldn't be just as angry if Miss Warner were on that table instead of you?"
 +
 +The scenario Leon proposed did give Nat pause, and for the first time in a while, he felt a glimmer of that old rage buried deep within himself. He was not, by nature, a trusting individual; he had rarely trusted anyone so much as he did a handful of people here, aboard Republic. So the idea of any one of them breaking that hard-formed bond of trust...
 +
 +"Ya, I'd be pretty pissed off." Hawk admitted.
 +
 +"Exactly!" Leon replied emphatically, realizing that Nat was starting to see his point. But the fact remained that he was still upset at Saal, and Leon couldn't see a way out of it at the moment. "I'm not saying that I won't ever be able to forgive him," he finally admitted. "But it's going to take some time to build that trust back up again. And I'm not ready yet."
 +
 +"There's just one thing, Leon," Hawk replied, "end of the day, Saal did what he did fer the right reasons. He did what he did ta save a life. The only reason he didn't bring ya in loop on it, the reason he broke yer trust, was fer the same reason Roth did; same reason Bashir's aboard. Ta keep yer sorry ass outta it. Not ta go b'hind yer back. Somethin' that, once I got over bein' angry s'hell, I'd come ta realize maybe made 'em a better friend than I'd known b'fore."
 +
 +Leon sat back in his chair and looked at the recovering helmsman in thought. "Maybe," he mused. "But you and I are only human. And whether or not the Captain and Bashir felt it was for the best, Saal should have seen ahead of all this and warned the Captain of the repercussions of lying to the entire crew." Pausing, he tapped his chin lightly with an index finger before grimacing and waving his hand as if excusing the thought. "Hell, I don't know. For all I know, Saal *did* warn her. But I guess that's why Roth has the four pips on her collar -- because she's the one who has to make those kinds of decisions. For what it's worth, Nat, I agree that it was the right decision, and I'm glad that you're alive and still with us. I just think there could have been a better ways to do this without playing everybody's heartstrings like they were toy banjos."
 +
 +The two sat in silence for almost a minute, staring blankly into thin air, as if coming to grips with their own human frailties. Nat, with his hard-fought struggle to return to the realm of the living, and Leon, unable to come to grips with the emotional toll of the methods to achieve the miracle. Whether either of them knew it or not, the real struggle was yet to come.
 +
 +"So..." Hawk said, letting the word hang between them for a moment, "When can I get the frinx outta here? N'more important, when the frinx am I gonna feel less like I got hit by a shuttle?"
 +
 +"Boy!" Leon exclaimed with an amused grin. "You sure are fickle! First, its 'I'll just barge in your office and talk your ear off', and then it's 'when will you let me go so I can go back to duty?'"
 +
 +"No offense, but if heaven n'hell exist, than bein' stuck in sickbay s'my own personal purgatory. Ya've got all this fancy medicine, how 'bout puttin' some of it ta use?" Hawk inquired.
 +
 +"Well, it's not that simple," Leon explained, the professional tone returning to his voice. "Your body has undergone a tremendous shock, compliments of the nanoprobes. While they've found it easy to jump-start your cells, they're finding that the real trick is to keep them from necrotizing all over again. The pain you're feeling is coming from the probes as they renaturate the integral membrane proteins of your brain's nerve bundles after they forget that they're alive and try to die on you. Once the probes have settled that little argument, and your body starts to act like a living organism again - not like a corpse that's being artificially reanimated - we can safely call the ball game a win for Nat Hawk. However, it helps if you save your energy for the good guys by staying in *bed*."
 +
 +Nat simply blinked at Leon for a few seconds, a deadpan expression blanketing his features. "Maybe it's the death talkin' here, but... I didn't understand more 'an two words ya just said." Hawk stated, before letting out a sigh. "'Sides which, I just had a pretty big 'nap' as is - the almost ferever kind."
 +
 +"If you can't sleep, we can give you a somnetic inducer. But until I'm confident that the nanoprobes have the upper hand in keeping your cells alive, I want you in sickbay where we have a better chance of reviving you if your body decides to fight back against them."
 +
 +"We're on a starship, flyin' around the Gamma Quadrant. If I keel over I'm only a transport away. What's it matter if I'm here 'er in my quarters? Least in my quarters, I might get ta have some fun in bed." Hawk said with a broad grin, as he wiggled his eyebrows, alluding to his idea of 'fun'.
 +
 +"I'll tell you what," Leon reasoned with him. "Your vitals are stable this evening. If they're stable tomorrow night, and we find that the headache has subsided, we'll put you on bed-rest and you can go back to your quarters under medical monitoring. At the end of the week, if you've got the energy, we'll give you a full physical and put you back on duty. LIGHT duty," the doctor emphasized. "That means no bridge watch, and no flying any shuttlecraft."
 +
 +"Well yer just a fun-suckin' vampire, ain't ya? Only things I like ta do when I'm on duty n'ya put the ole kai-bosh on 'em. Figures." Hawk replied. Shaking his index finger warily, he continued, "It's stuff like this that makes people not like doctor's, ya know." he joked. "So what 'bout long term?"
 +
 +"That will all depend on how the nanoprobes interact with your metabolism over the long haul," Leon warned. "There are very few active duty Starfleet officers with Borg nanoprobes swimming around in their veins. Even after five years of intense study by Fleet Medical, they're still found to be occasionally erratic. Sometimes, they'll die off by themselves after realizing that their job is done. Other times, they'll latch onto your body and form a symbiosis. Who knows? What matters is if they decide to work *for* Nat Hawk, and not *against* him. Only time will tell."
 +
 +"Great, the 'wait n'see' approach. Yeah, cause that's got a great track record!" Nat lamented.
 +
 +At about that time, the door to the office slid open to reveal an irate Nurse Watson.
 +
 +"THERE you are!" she scolded Nat like a mother hen. "What are you doing out of bed? And why are you bothering Doctor Cromwell?"
 +
 +"Lil' Lady, I just came back from the great beyond. So I figure that gives me license ta take a big ole risk n'wander inta 'nother ward a sickbay." Hawk retorted, restraining himself from making the archaic Nurse Ratchet joke he had floating around the back of his mind.
 +
 +For the first time since before the funeral, Leon allowed an extremely amused smile to spread across his face. His friend's predicament was an entertaining spectacle, and while he gave pause to consider letting him stew for a while in his self-brewed transgression, he decided to let him off the hook.
 +
 +"It's okay, Martha," Leon waved his hand. "I was giving the lieutenant an update on his condition."
 +
 +"At zero-three-thirty hours?!" she replied with incredulity.
 +
 +"Um," he paused with embarrassment. "I extended my office hours?"
 +
 +The questioning tone in the doctor's voice suggested an ulterior motive, but the ensign, while perhaps in a position to scold a patient, wasn't ready to confront her medical supervisor with the same vigor. She simply raised an eyebrow at Leon while motioning for Nat to leave the office.
 +
 +"Keep yer shirt on!" Hawk said to the impatient nurse. He realized only after he had said such that, once upon a time, he would have followed up on that with 'on second thought, take it off', but such no longer felt... right. Which gave him some pause. "Ya know, somebody once said... 'there's a time and a place for a philosophical discussion; oh-two-hundred hours isn't one of them'..." Nat said, trailing off, not quite saying what he was intending to.
 +
 +"No problem," Leon replied to Nat with a touch of appreciation. "And thanks for giving me something to think about."
 +
 +"Well, don't stay up all night thinkin' 'bout it. Get some sleep. Ya look like hell." Hawk said, his tone vague as to how serious he was. The last thing Leon heard as his office doors shut behind Hawk and Nurse Watson were the grumbled complaints of Republic's helmsman concerning sickbay food.
 +
 +
 +----
 +
 +
 +It had been less than a day since the crew of the Republic had learned of his resurrection. Less than a day since those he cared for had learned they had mourned prematurely. Less than a day spent awake and aware in the confines of Sickbay. Yet when it came to spending any amount of time confined to Sickbay, less than a day could easily feel like more than a year. At least, as far as the risen Lieutenant Nat Hawk was concerned. Tired as he was, weak as he was, ill as he felt, he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of the ship's medical facilities. It was almost enough to drive him back to the drink. So when he first spotted Chief Engineer Vance Devloch enter Sickbay, he had felt a momentary sense of reprieve. It turned out to only be momentary, indeed.
 +
 +"You son of a bitch." Devloch spat as he approached the bio-bed where Hawk lay.
 +
 +"Well howdy back at ya." Hawk replied, meekly but with enough sarcasm to sound like himself even though he felt like a walking corpse.
 +
 +"Pretty lively for a dead fellow don't ya think?" Said Vance in a voice that practically dripped with sarcasm and resentment. "you do realize that coming back spoiled an incredibly Beautiful Brandy Bender. I hope your happy."
 +
 +"Next time I'll stay dead a might longer then, just ta give ya an excuse ta get smashed." Hawk replied, pushing himself up to a sitting-like position with considerable effort. The fact that the medical monitors beeped in disagreement with his movement wasn't lost on him.
 +
 +"As if I need an excuse," quipped Vance, pulling a flask out of his non-regulation jacket and enjoying a sip of whatever questionable liquid it might contain. "you know, there ARE easier ways to meet the good looking nurses around here I'm sure. You know, part of me wants to knock you on your ass, but it seems you're kind of stuck there for a while anyway." Vance offered the flask over to Nat.
 +
 +Hawk eyed the flask for the briefest of moments before turning his gaze to Devloch, refusing the offered beverage. "I ain't desperate enough fer a date ta get filleted like a fish, thanks. Got maself a long-term dance partner, matter a fact. Unlike yerself, who only seems ta keep the company a that flask 'n his own warp core - an I don't mean the big one down 'n engineerin' if ya get ma drift." Hawk shot back, weary of Devloch's tone and attitude. Then again, maybe it was just his general weariness getting the better of him?
 +
 +"It's water, actually. I said I WAS on a bender, not that I was continuing the 'mission'. And my Warp Core is fine, both of them thanks for asking. Both are performing above Specs. So what? You think I can lose possibly the last "Wingman" I might ever have, learn he was never actually dead except in a technical sense, and what? I'm supposed to take this all in stride and not be upset? Hell! Damnit Nat, I'm a pilot not a monk." At this point Vance was starting to build up a good head of steam. "Ah hell, What was I supposed to think?"
 +
 +Hawk didn't have a response for him.
 +
 +"So, how was being dead?" Asked Vance calmly.
 +
 +As quickly as Devloch had pissed him off, so to had he come down off his high-horse. "Well, I tell ya what. Was more 'an just in a 'technical sense' a things." he admitted, a thousand-yard stare taking over his features. "It's hard ta make sense outta everythin'... life, death, life again. Ya know, I once read somewhere after Cap'n Spock got re-animated by that whole Genesis planet mumbo-jumbo, he was asked tha same question. Ya know, 'what was it like ta be dead?' an the answer he gave never quite made much sense ta me. Just said he couldn't explain it without a common frame a reference. Now, though, I kinda get what he meant. Ya really gotta... die b'fore ya can explain it 'er talk 'bout it in any detail. Cause it just ain't somethin' the mind can make a lotta sense outta otherwise, ya know?" he rambled. Seeing the look on Devloch's face, he could tell the other man didn't quite follow. "So'd ya get any sympathy sex? Ya know, loosin' yer new best pal n'what not." he asked, quirking his eyebrows and grinning in that trademark Nat Hawk manner.
 +
 +"That never even occurred to me. Maybe I WAS a little quick to jump into the bottle in this, one, specific case. Hell, I'm not fooling anyone, haven't been for a while. I'm charging towards drunkard at a remarkable rate. I probably ought to do something about that..." with a Sigh, Vance pulled out his other Flask. "Definitely need to do something about that. So what's next? Anyone have any thoughts on who's responsible for... How was it? Oh yes, you getting 'filleted like a fish'. I hope someone tries to do that to me. Should be an interesting experience for all parties."
 +
 +"Trust me, it ain't somethin' ya wanna try fer yerself. As ta the who 'n why... it's a lil complicated. Classified complicated. Not that I give a rats ass 'bout rules and regs on that sorta thing, mind ya. Just means, all I can tell ya is it's the reason we're under a comm-black-out, n' it's got ta do with the Orion Syndicate. So... yeah, dun stand next ta me if we're ever in a parade 'er somethin'." Hawk said.
 +
 +"The Orion syndicate? Why'd you have to go and piss them off? As to trying it myself, I'm paranoid, something to do with being a prisoner of war and of course there's some additional professional training I've amused myself with in between benders." Said Vance as he produced a pair of knives and twirled them around between his fingers. Then quickly thrusting the knife into his side against his jacket in an apparent attempt at self injury. "The jacket's heavily armored against damage, and I've always got at least a knife or two. They do tend to come in handy in a large variety of situations. Not really enough for me to deal with a true professional, but it would really surprise the hell out of someone."
 +
 +"Damn man, would ya put those away? Yer thicker n' a mule sometimes, I swear." Hawk replied. "Knives ain't exactly ma favorite things in the 'verse these days, ya know?" shaking his head, Nat remarked, "It's a wonder they let ya handle anti-matter."
 +
 +"They let me play with anti-matter and nobody told me? What am I doing talking with you when I have such fun toys to play with?" The knives disappeared "Ya know, if I had some serious enemies I'd probably consider taking some reasonable precautions. Just a thought. So, what are you going to do next? I'd think that coming back from the dead would be a tough act to follow." Vance said.
 +
 +"Why d'ya think they had a plan ta bring me back from the dead in the first place?" Hawk asked rhetorically. "No such thing as one-hundred-percent secure." he said. "As fer a second act, that's up ta the boys in black back in the A-Q. If things come t'gether right, me bein' dead'll bring the big fish we're after outta hidin' an then the real fun starts." Hawk explained, ending with a grin.
 +
 +"I think your definition of fun, and my definition of fun may be just a little too close to comfort. I think I'm going to take some more time out for additional combat training I've got a strange feeling that things could get... Interesting... in the near future." Vance stated finally. "Cue ominous music."
 +
 +"Meh, ya worry to much. I been cheatin' death longer n' ya could imagine." Hawk replied.
 +
 +
 +----
 +
 +
 +A few days later, something was still bothering Lieutenant Nathan Hawk.
 +
 +Despite all the twenty-fourth century medical technology Leon Cromwell could throw at him, he was still unable to sleep but for an hour or two. He had even tested a handful of homeopathic remedies suggested by his friends and colleagues to no avail. Sleep simply alluded Nathan Hawk in the wake of all that had happened to him recently. Even their resident head-shrinker had suggested a number of psychological causes for his insomnia. In classic Hawk fashion though, Nat had dodged the Counselor's attempts to aid him. As much as he had changed since coming aboard Republic, some things would always stay the same.
 +
 +Thankfully, he was finally 'home' for all intents and purposes. Not only because he was back in his own private quarters, but because those quarters had become less private. Lying next to him in bed, the first person he had permitted himself to love in as long as he remembered, slept soundly as he watched. He didn't know where their
 +relationship would take him, and the possibility of loosing her as he had everyone else in his life hung over him always. Yet some part of him, something stronger than the rage that had driven him for so long, refused to let that risk from making the decisions any longer.
 +
 +As he lay in the darkness, he couldn't help but think of his time between worlds. How he remembered such didn't make any sense. He had been dead, his brain has ceased to function; so how could he form the chemicals bonds that where the physical form of memories? He had never been the strongest scientist, and by no means had he ever been much of a philosopher, so the question nagged at him all the more. So many questions, so many doubts, so many fears, all seemed to be choking him from within.
 +
 +And yet...
 +
 +While he had ebbed between life and death, trying to grasp the concept of existence between worlds, a lone voice reached out to him from the darkness. Not any god, nor any demon; none of the things he might have expected from the myths and legends passed down through time. Just a voice, and while it claimed it could have been anyone, as in in challenge to his sarcastic quip and his own disbelief, the voice had chosen to manifest itself as James Tiberius Kirk. Nat, like almost everyone, had revered the Starfleet hero of century's past as a child, and come to respect him as an officer. There were so many questions that he wanted to ask the man. When he tried though, they were evaded with a simple 'you already know the answers.'
 +
 +He hated that. He preferred the 'simple question equals a simple answer' formula. It seemed though that nobody with a knowledge of the universe beyond his own would ever follow it. Not even 'Kirk'. Though he knew it was likely not Kirk, the questions he had always wanted to ask had kept coming to him. Instead, he had wasted the moment. A moment he doubted he would have again until he died again; and remained so. At which point... what did it matter anyway?
 +
 +He needed answers in the here and now; ones that he could not get lying in bed.
 +
 +With a barely audible moan from the sleeping Leah, Nat slipped out of bed and walked into the main living area of his quarters. Taking a seat at the desk, he pivoted the desk-mounted computer console towards himself, and quietly spoke to it.
 +
 +"Computer, call up all available holographic programs about the historical figure, James Kirk."
 +
 +As his eyes scrolled across the list, nothing seemed to fit the situation. Training scenarios, historical re-enactments, even an encoded adult program. Nothing that would tell him anything more than a history text. He was ready to give up when the final entry on the list caught his eye. The title sounded like a quote to him, but he couldn't place it: "Turn Death Into a Fighting Chance To Live..."
 +
 +Calling the program up on one of the vacant holodecks, Nat couldn't help but wonder what he would find as he left his quarters.
  
 ---- ----
 <BOOKMARK:Chapter34> <BOOKMARK:Chapter34>
 <fs x-large>**Chapter 34: Recriminations & Mechinations**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:walking_wounded#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\  <fs x-large>**Chapter 34: Recriminations & Mechinations**</fs><wrap lo right>[[archives:walking_wounded#top|Top]]</wrap>\\ \\ 
 +
 +The evening following Nat Hawk's late night stroll through sickbay, Leon fulfilled his side of the promise and released the helmsman to his quarters under bed-rest. There was a question or two from other members from the senior staff on whether it was too early, but a promise is a promise, and there was no medical reason why the lieutenant needed to stay in sickbay. Of course, from Leon's point of view, it was a bit more personal, as he had spent the entire previous evening awake in his office, following through with an all-night cram session in preparation for the bridge officer's test. The doctor was exhausted. As soon as he secured Nat with a medical monitor, Leon went straight to bed himself.
 +
 +The morning of the bridge test started of like any other day. He awoke at 0700 hours, showered, ate, and by 0900, he was strolling into holodeck one where Commander Carter was waiting for him. With barely a "good morning, let's get started," Leon found himself in the command seat of the Republic, on patrol along the Romulan Neutral Zone, just as the borders between outposts 6 and 7 were breached by three Warbirds. Leon's diplomatic efforts to stave off combat lasted only a short time, as he failed to heed their demands for surrender.
 +
 +Amazingly, Leon managed to survive the ensuing combat, destroying the first Warbird in a fierce volley of combined phaser and torpedo fire. The return torrent of firepower was almost as devastating, knocking out the Republic's weapon systems and warp drive. However, by skillfully allocating power to the shields that faced his enemy, Leon was able to muster enough energy to utilize the ship's tractor beam to drag the second Warbird into the path of the third while it was targeting Republic with photon torpedoes.
 +
 +Although the second Romulan was destroyed by the combination of friendly fire and structural stress brought on by the sudden release of the tractor beam while the ships were locked in a impulse-speed tug-of-war (a little trick John had taught him during his course of starship tactics), the third Warbird had received only moderate damage by the subsequent explosion. As Republic received a barrage of deadly disruptor fire from the third Romulan vessel, it was only by way of ejecting the antimatter pods that Leon was able to keep the ship from turning into a burning field of space debris. Nevertheless, Republic was crippled, and Leon's enemy was about to pull the trigger one last time if it were not for a little medical trickery.
 +
 +While there may be up to 20,000 sensory hair cells in the cochlea of a normal human, Romulans, being of Vulcan decent, have over 50,000. In addition, the frequency range of their hearing is between approximately 40 to 60,000 hertz, while humans can only hear sounds within the frequencies of 20 Hz and 20,000 hertz. This lower range may seem inferior when looking strictly at the numbers, but it has the advantage in that species with a higher range (such as Romulans) are often forced to adjust their com system to an elevated gain when communicating with humans to hear the full range of vocalizations.
 +
 +Subspace communication systems between known space-faring races (whether friendly or not) are pre-programmed for what is ubiquitously known as a "handshake": A digital piggyback signal transmitted in parallel to the main audio/visual subspace uplink, and which sends parametric information for processing, translating, and displaying the communication properly on the opposite end. This signal must be transmitted unencrypted from *both* ends in order to establish a clear, two-way conversation. In addition, basic starship etiquette dictated that each end transmit their correct "handshake" to ensure a properly calibrated signal for the opposite end. While most ship captains would follow standard hailing protocols, Leon did not feel bound by this etiquette. So, when he opened hailing frequencies to transmit a surrender offer, he purposely set the transmitter to a static-laced output of between 15 and 30 hertz, and at a gain of only 10 decibels. At the same time, Leon also programmed the transmitter's "handshake" to indicate that the only way for the receiving end to properly parse the audio portion of the communiqué was to turn up their own gain. Since the Romulans already knew that the Republic was crippled, they paid little attention to the mundanely obscure piggyback signal.
 +
 +As a matter of simple physics, the power in a sound wave is proportional to the square of the pressure. Therefore, an increase from 10 to 150 decibels is roughly equivalent to a 10 million-fold increase in sound pressure. At maximum volume, the Romulan audio speakers are capable of broadcasting at 160 decibels; a purposeful design to ensure that remote areas of the ship can hear any important announcements during an emergency. Such a sound level is capable of permanently damaging the human eardrum, and higher than the normal threshold of pain for Romulans should they be standing anywhere near the speaker system.
 +
 +After listening for a few seconds to an extremely distorted audio transmission, both the Warbird's bridge crew and their communications computer were straining to listen to a quiet, muffled surrender message from the Republic. At about that time, Leon changed the transmission from the whisper-like garble to a full-power, ear-piercing 50,000 hertz oscillating signal, causing the entire Romulan bridge to be paralyzed for about 30 seconds.
 +
 +It was long enough.
 +
 +The last of Leon's assets on the Republic included emergency backup power, thruster control, and three fully-pressurized shuttlebays. Opening the outer doors of the latter asset caused enough explosive decompression to hurl the Republic towards the remaining Warbird. The momentum was slightly above the Republic's center of gravity, causing it to slip underneath as is passed the enemy vessel by a clearance of no more than 500 meters. Leon set the five dorsally-located emergency fusion generators to overload, and ordered them to be jettisoned as they flew past. By programming the computer to polarize the containment fields on the generators' casings, they became magnetized, and like gravitic mines, latched themselves to the unshielded aft section of the Romulan vessel as they reached critical mass.
 +
 +Leon had almost expected cheering when the five well-placed thermonuclear explosions eliminated the remaining attacker, but the holographic bridge crew remained at their stations in silence. Confused, the doctor looked around the bridge: The simulation had not ended. In fact, as he took note of the smashed bridge stations and virtual pockets of fire and smoke throughout the room, the gravity of their situation sank in: They were dead in space.
 +
 +Apparently, space combat was only an introduction to the bridge officers' exam . . . survival would be the real test.
 +
 +To save on precious life support power, Leon took the logical step of evacuating the remaining bridge crew to auxiliary control on deck 8. There, he consulted his holographic senior officers, who just happened to mimic his real-life colleagues. The dimly lit ready room of the battle bridge was cramped, and each officer bore the sign of stress and fatigue. Their uniforms were torn and singed, and a few even bore some injuries signified by dried patches of blood in their skin.
 +
 +As they sat around the small compartment, Leon took note of who all he had left on his staff: Victor Virtus was the most senior, as the computer was kind enough (or perhaps, cruel enough) to reproduce a close friend as the ship's chief engineer. Next was a forlorn Nat Hawk, his condition a bit counter to the real Nat's personality, but perhaps understandable in the current situation as there was no helm control left to the ship. Chief Rainier was also present with his damage control expertise, as was Shannon Harris in charge of medical. Absent was the Operations Officer (a holographic Lieutenant Sullivan died on the main bridge after the first attack) and the Tactical Officer (Doug Forrest had briefly made an appearance, but was incapacitated during the second volley of weapons fire). Also absent was the Science Officer, as the computer failed to produce one for the test (Leon assumed it was intentional to force him to use his own science knowledge). Finally, for obvious reasons, Carter and Roth were not part of the simulation's programming.
 +
 +"Everything below deck ten in the stardrive section is completely inaccessible due to damage," explained Virtus, answering Leon's question about the ship's current status. "We've also sealed off the forward and mid sections of decks seven through eleven of the saucer. Aft sections are habitable, but decks one through six, as well as decks twelve on down, are nothing but a jumble of twisted bulkheads open to space. Looks like you got us off the bridge just before the main dorsal plasma conduit gave way."
 +
 +"Survivors?" Leon asked soberly.
 +
 +"Five hundred and twelve," the holographic Vic answered straightforwardly, his emotionless business-like manner effectively reproducing the real-life Virtus. "Three hundred and sixty two injured, two hundred and forty seven critically."
 +
 +"Status of the wounded?" Leon turned to Shannon. His concern for the injured was an automatic response congruent to his personality, and he had almost wished the real Shannon had somehow inserted herself into the program. However, as the answer came forth, it was clear that it was a facsimile, and that John had ensured that one of Leon's closest medical colleague could not bias the outcome of the test.
 +
 +"Well, sickbay is obviously gone, and the stardrive section infirmary is inaccessible. We've managed to get most of them to holodeck six, but the EMH is offline, and we're working with mainly first aid kits. The most critical patients are being treated as best we can, and we've set up holodeck five as a triage center."
 +
 +//"Warning: Life support failure in 10 minutes"//
 +
 +The ominous computer warning accentuated the seriousness of the situation. "Do we have an evacuation option?" Leon asked the group.
 +
 +"Not really," Chief Rainier spoke up. "We're cutoff from most of the lifeboats, and there would be no way to evacuate the wounded."
 +
 +"Shuttlecraft?"
 +
 +"Don'tcha r'member?" Nat spoke next. "Ya blew most'vem outta the landing bays!"
 +
 +"Saucer Sep?"
 +
 +"Not an option," Virtus replied. "Most of the habitable areas are in the saucer section, and what battery power we have left is in the stardrive. We'd be disconnecting our only power source keeping us alive."
 +
 +"Well that does it," Leon concluded with determination. "We have to find another source of power to maintain life support." The doctor ran through a mental list of all the historical situations that were similar to this one. "What about a solar sail?" he finally asked, remembering the USS Yorktown during the Whalesong crisis from 90 years ago. "Do we have enough materials to build one of those?"
 +
 +"Yes," Victor finally said after some thought. "But it would take at least a day to build."
 +
 +//"Warning: Life support failure in 9 minutes"//
 +
 +"Have you pulled the plug on absolutely everything?" Leon asked Virtus frantically.
 +
 +"Yes," Vic replied. "We're running on minimal life support as it is. I've even shut the lights off in all the habitable areas except for holodecks five and six for the sickbay staff. They're working with wristlights and console lanterns. There's nothing more we can shutoff to save power."
 +
 +As the minutes ticked down, Leon went from frantic to panicked, checking off every possible way to conserve energy for life support. One idea had everyone capable of wearing a survival suit to do so in order to extend battery life. Although that would have bought them two hours, it unfortunately would have taken them 20 minutes to get everyone in suits, which is more time than they had left.
 +
 +//"Warning: Life support failure in 5 minutes"//
 +
 +Leon's final idea was to take every handheld device, from phasers to tricorders, and attempt to use the power packs to recharge the ship's batteries. By the time Vic finished explaining how long that would take compared to how little effect it would have on their energy reserves, there was less than a minute left.
 +
 +"Doesn't anybody have a damned clue on what to do?" Leon finally shouted at an unreceptive audience. While he knew the program could not give advice, and that the holographic representations of his colleagues were programmed only to follow orders and respond to practical questions, he could not help a moment of vanity as it appeared his test was ending in failure.
 +
 +//"Warning: Life support failure in 30 seconds"//
 +
 +Wide-eyed with trepidation, Leon looked into the blank faces of his colleagues for any sign of hope or optimism. He found none.
 +
 +"Computer, halt simulation," came a new voice. The pulsating red lights of the wall-mounted alert tracers paused, as did the small, inconsequential body movements of the senior staff. From outside the holographic walls, John Carter stepped into the small compartment to face his friend.
 +
 +"Sorry, Leon."
 +
 +"You're kidding, right?" Leon looked up to John with incredulity.
 +
 +"I told you it was going to be tough," he replied sympathetically. "That it was going to test every fiber of your psychological profile."
 +
 +"This is crazy!" the doctor exclaimed. "Are you telling me that the past nine months of holo-courses and end-of-chapter exams were for THIS?"
 +
 +John simply rolled his eyes and began walking towards the door. "Computer, end program," he beckoned, and the cramped battle bridge ready room disappeared to reveal the spacious, black-walled hologrid.
 +
 +"What about warp physics?" Leon exclaimed while getting up from his chair. "What about EPS theory? What about Federation history?"
 +
 +"What about them?" John replied, walking into the corridor beyond with Leon in tow.
 +
 +"How do they apply in there?" the doctor pointed back to the closing holodeck door behind them.
 +
 +"Well, you obviously used some of them to great effect," he commented, continuing down the corridor without looking back.
 +
 +"Some of them," Leon admitted, still angry and annoyed. "But what good did it do me? I still failed!"
 +
 +"Not everyone is cut out to be a bridge officer, Leon."
 +
 +The duo walked past several officers who moved to the side to make room for them in the hallway. It was minor spectacle. Enough to embarrass John, but not the doctor, who obviously was too irate to care. The passing crewmembers said nothing as they went by.
 +
 +"That was ridiculous!" the CMO responded. "There was no way to win in there!"
 +
 +At that, John Carter stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly to look at his friend with such annoyance that it gave Leon pause. "Did you keep trying that holographic simulation program I gave you access to?" he retorted.
 +
 +"The Kobyashi Maru?" replied Leon. "That was ridiculous too! I kept getting blown up!"
 +
 +John hung his head in despair. "You still don't get it, do you?"
 +
 +"Get what?" Leon exclaimed. "What was there to 'get'?"
 +
 +"Do you think commanding a starship is all about combat?" John argued, his voice rising.
 +
 +"Well? What was I supposed to think? That program is nothing *but* combat."
 +
 +John shook his head and leaned up against the wall with one arm, clenching and unclenching his fist in frustration.
 +
 +"Leon, you're a scientist as well a doctor. Did you do any research into the Kobyashi Maru scenario? Do you know what the test was for?"
 +
 +It suddenly occurred to the CMO that he was taking John's gift of the antiquated holodeck program for granted. Apparently, his friend meant for him to study it in detail, and not run it with the superficial attitude of a novelty present. In fact, Leon was rather surprised that John was so heavily biased towards the tactical scenario, suggesting there was a larger message that he failed to absorb. It caused him to stumble through the inquiry.
 +
 +"Well . . . uh . . . I guessed it was for tactical starship training . . ."
 +
 +John stared incredulously at the doctor before responding. "No. It's not. The Kobyashi Maru is a test of character. And since you never finished it, I can only guess that you have NONE."
 +
 +The reply hit Leon squarely in the gut. It was an insult, and it came from one of his best friends. In addition, it wasn't a fun-loving insult over drinks. It was a very sober and very direct insult meant to harshly jog Leon's personal assumptions. It succeeded.
 +
 +"What the hell do you want from me?" Leon whispered, still feeling the pain of John's stinging remark.
 +
 +"I want you to start seeing the universe for the way it really is," John directed. "It's not black and white, nor good and bad. There's no 'winning' anything when lives hang in the balance."
 +
 +"What's that supposed to mean?"
 +
 +"You have twenty-four hours to figure it out."
 +
 +With that, John turned around and proceeded to walk away from his friend.
 +
 +"Are you saying that you're giving me another chance?" Leon called after him.
 +
 +Without turning around, John continued down the hallway and offered his final say in the matter. "Twenty-four hours, doc. If you're not ready to finish the test by zero nine-hundred tomorrow, then you'll no longer be a bridge officer candidate . . ."
 +
 +Leon stood speechless, watching as John disappeared beyond the gradual, lateral curvature of the passageway. His emotion had swung from nervous, to jubilant, to panicked, to frustrated, to hurt, all before finally settling on dazed. The doctor was a mind-melding Vulcan's nightmare by the time John had departed, and as a queasy sensation filled his stomach, a quiet chuckle caught his attention.
 +
 +The next recessed cove along the corridor wall was that of holodeck two, and the chuckle was coming from Nat Hawk. The lieutenant was in his night robe, and stepped out from within the closed doorway vestibule to lean his shoulder against the wall by the control panel. He was apparently quite amused about John and Leon squabbling through the corridor like a married couple.
 +
 +"Boy!" Leon exclaimed, his telltale furrow forming yet again on his forehead. "You just can't follow an order, can you?"
 +
 +"Nope, not unless I like 'em," Nat shook his head, still smiling. "But c'mon, what'd ya expect? I been cooped-up like a monkey n'the zoo fer a week. I needed ta stretch ma legs."
 +
 +Even though Nat had violated Leon's medical curfew, from a doctor's perspective, he had to admit that the Republic's helmsman was looking much better, even though it had only been a day since he left sickbay. There was color back in his cheeks, and his attitude seemed less withdrawn and more relaxed; as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
 +
 +"I don't recall ever writing a prescription for an early morning romp with Orion slave women," Leon commented.
 +
 +Nat seemed to consider something for a moment, then finally shrugged and shook his head. "Naw," he replied, "believe it 'er not, I've always been a one-gal-at-a-time kinda guy. Whether she's flesh 'er photons."
 +
 +"Well you must have been doing something healthy to bring that smug grin back to your face," he prodded him. "I can only assume it was some sort of mix of physical exertion and pleasure. Both of which you're NOT supposed to be doing, I might add."
 +
 +"Strike two, Doc," Nat admitted proudly. "Matter a fact, I was doin' a lil bit a . . . I guess ya could call it research."
 +
 +"You?" Leon's expression turned to surprise. "Researching?" He folded his arms to emphasize that we was willing to listen to Nat's explanation. "This ought to be good. Well, what was it?"
 +
 +"Well after that lil lovers quarrel b'tween John-boy n'you, I think ya might wanna try it out fer yerself." Hawk suggested. "Somethin' tells me it'd do ya a might a good on yer test."
 +
 +"You think that whatever 'research' program you may be running will solve *my* career problems?"
 +
 +"Never know til ya try," Hawk teased, "Somethin' tells me this program might just help ya 'turn death inta a fightin' chance ta live' . . . so ta speak."
 +
 +"What's that supposed to mean?" the doctor's curmudgeon-like tone resurfacing.
 +
 +"Just . . . try it. Trust me." Nat said.
 +
 +"Why would I be interested in running a program that *you* designed? Last time I joined you in any other pursuit other than drinking, I found myself dangling from a hopper on a rope over a lava pit."
 +
 +Nat couldn't help but smile as he stepped past Leon, making his way down the corridor as Carter had done a few minutes before. "If it helps ease yer mind, I didn't design the program; John-boy did. Just take it from somebody who passed that bridge exam; run the program."
 +
 +With a smile that never ceased, Nat shuffled on down the corridor out of sight, leaving the confused Leon standing alone outside of holodeck two. With little choice left, Leon raised an eyebrow before entering the chamber.
 +
 +
 +----
 +
 +
 +**Location: Outer ring corridor, deck 10, USS Republic**
 +
 +John Carter walked briskly, trying to shake the feeling that he'd just punched a friend in the gut. Behind him, moving to a bouncing trot to keep up, Shannon Harris raised her voice. "John! Don't you DARE walk away from me."
 +
 +Carter quickly spun on a heel, a little surprised at the yell that almost came out of his mouth. He took a deep breath to try and collect himself, then looked at Shannon again. "I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "I'm just so damned..."
 +
 +"Frustrated?" Shannon interjected.
 +
 +"Yeah, that," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm really surprised at Leon. I mean, I gave him EVERY break I could and he's been... I don't know... ignoring this."
 +
 +Shannon regarded Republic's XO for a long moment. Then she shifted her weight to the other hip. "Have you considered that he doesn't really WANT to take that test?"
 +
 +John gave the red headed pediatrician a dismissive wave. "Come on," he said simply, "No one's twisting his arm. Besides, you know as well as I do that Leon is exactly the kind of man that `Fleet needs. Especially now."
 +
 +Shannon shook her head. "I'm not arguing that, John..."
 +
 +"Then what ARE you arguing?" he shot back.
 +
 +Shannon folded her arms in front of her and gave Carter a stern look. "Let me finish, COMMANDER." She let just a hint of venom leak into the last word. "I completely agree that Fleet needs Leon. I'm just not sure that Leon needs `Fleet."
 +
 +Carter shook his head again. "What are you talking about," he waved his hands for emphasis. "He ABSOLUTELY belongs here."
 +
 +"I agree, John," Harris said smoothly. "He belongs on this ship, with this crew, but needing us and needing `Fleet is not the same thing. Besides," she continued with a wry smile on her face, "you're not the easiest man in the world to say `no' to."
 +
 +John tilted his head sideways for a long moment. "You really think I pushed him too hard to take the test?"
 +
 +"Honestly? No, I don't," she offered, "Just like the rest of us, Leon needs a good kick in the backside sometimes, but there's something to be said for the fact that he's particularly hesitant to take THAT PARTICULAR test. Maybe it has something to do with the combat. I don't know, but the whole idea sends his system into a highly agitated state."
 +
 +John shook his head again. "I told him, the test isn't about combat. Truth be told it's not even REALLY about the `No-win scenario'. It's about the fact that one day, ship commander or not, he might have to order someone to die in order to save the ship, and he needs to be okay with that."
 +
 +"You think he can't? He's a doctor John. He deals with life and death nearly every day."
 +
 +John stepped closer and put his hands on Shannon's shoulders. "I know, but it's not the same thing. When Leon has to LET someone die, it's because there is literally no alternative. There's a world of difference between being force to let someone die and asking them to."
 +
 +Shannon stepped closer, letting John fold her into a hug. "I never really thought of it that way," she said quietly.
 +
 +"I know," John said in a whisper. "What matters is if Leon can think of it that way or not."
  
 ---- ----
archives/walking_wounded.txt · Last modified: 2021/01/11 01:35 by site_admin

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