Trials 04 Shadow's Trial

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Trials 04 Shadow's Trial Page 14

by Terri Zavaleta


  concerning the ethics of sharing information with a third party

  concerning a doctor/patient communication. But since you are

  considered family by the individual involved and she has

  previously---"

  "Doc, get to the point!" Tom snapped impatiently. "What's wrong with

  Malista?"

  The EMH held up a placating hand. "I'm getting to that. Malista asked

  to speak with me this afternoon. She wanted to get some information

  about dealing with the traumatic aftereffects of rape."

  Paris took a deep breath. He concentrated on breathing for a moment.

  He was afraid to ask the next question. "Were you able to help her?"

  The doctor frowned. "I was able to reassure her that she'd suffered no

  permanent *physical* damage as a result of---the incident."

  "What?! Why didn't she *already* know that?" Tom was angry and

  confused. "She was raped five years ago!"

  The doctor looked mildly disgusted. "Evidently the quality of health

  care provided by the Maquis was not up to Starfleet standards. Or

  perhaps the physicians did not take time to reassure Malista at the

  time. Or if they did, she was suffering from shock and did not

  understand what was said. Whatever the cause, the result is that she

  had no real idea to what extent she'd been physically damaged by the

  Cardassians. She said she'd never asked before because she didn't

  think it would matter. Now that she and Mr. Kim are---considering

  intimacy, she decided she had a need to know. She felt comfortable

  enough with me to inquire into her status---as a potential sexual

  partner and mother."

  "Mother?" Tom gulped.

  "I didn't say she was pregnant, Mr. Paris. I merely assured her that

  there is nothing wrong with her reproductive system. Any physical

  damage due to trauma was repaired quite efficiently. She is perfectly

  capable of engaging in sexual activity, becoming pregnant, and bearing

  children in a normal manner. If she chooses to do so. We also

  discussed birth control measures."

  Tom was beginning to get a headache. "So she's healthy. Now she knows

  it. That's wonderful. What's the problem, Doc?"

  "The physical damage is only part of the equation, Lieutenant," he

  said with admirable composure.

  "Emotionally?"

  "Emotionally, I'm afraid, she has refused to give herself permission

  to deal with the whole issue. She seems to have a pattern of avoidance

  behavior."

  "I've noticed," Paris sighed. "I'm glad she at least felt safe enough

  with you to ask for information. It's hard for her to trust men, you

  know. So what do we do about it?"

  "I understand her fear of men. In part, it is the result of early

  indoctrination by her family and the cultural customs with which she

  was raised. These teachings seem to be the source of some conflict

  between what she was taught and her personal experience and its effect

  on her emotions and value system. The fact that I am a holoprogram may

  have eased her mind. I am completely objective. She seems to fear

  being harshly judged by subjective standards." The EMH scowled his

  disapproval of such an attitude.

  He returned his gaze to the lieutenant. "As for what 'we' are going

  to do about this situation, I plan to talk to Commander Chakotay about

  this. Malista has never given herself permission to feel the emotions

  she experienced---or should have experienced at the time of the

  trauma. She repressed her anger, shock, and fear. They are just

  beginning to surface. Repression and denial seem to be her normal

  pattern in dealing with her inner conflicts. In fact, I believe she

  has dealt with the shock and fear to some degree. But there are

  indications that she has *not* resolved a great deal of anger. Again,

  because she hasn't given herself permission to get angry. She doesn't

  seem to feel entitled to her feelings so she has not dealt with them

  constructively."

  "What should I do?" Tom asked worriedly.

  "I'm sure the commander will confer with you after I give him my

  findings. Until then," the doctor said, "Continue to be supportive.

  Malista appreciates your concern. Her difficulty in dealing with her

  personal problems has been exacerbated by Voyager's situation in

  exiling her from her family. You have helped meet her need for a

  family."

  "Is there anything else I need to know? Anything I can do?"

  "I don't want to understate the seriousness of the situation, Mr.

  Paris," the doctor said, wearing his most solemn expression. "She has

  not dealt with her anger. As you may know, anger that is repressed

  usually takes one of two forms. Anger turned inward leads to

  depression, which she has already demonstrated when she attempted

  suicide. You successfully blocked that path to dealing with her anger.

  For the time being. But now she has to find another way to release

  these feelings. If she doesn't find a healthy way to let go of her

  past, of the trauma..." His voice trailed off, as if he were reluctant

  to continue.

  "What?" Paris demanded. "You said there were two forms of repressed

  anger?"

  The doctor's brow creased in a ferocious frown. "There is a

  possibility that she could become violent. Subject to fits of temper,

  possibly murderous rage."

  "Not Malista," the pilot said, his jaw clenching as his whole being

  rejected the idea. "She wouldn't hurt anyone."

  "I said it was a possibility, Mr. Paris," said the EMH gently. "Not a

  certainty. I hope that Malista will find a way to express her anger

  and let it go. With your help, my help, and that of Mr. Kim and

  Commander Chakotay. I thought you should be aware of the situation.

  She needs to give herself permission to feel angry and express that

  anger. If the opportunity should arise..."

  "I understand." Tom got to his feet, and clapped a hand to the EMH's

  shoulder. "Thanks, Doc. I'll keep you advised and talk to Chakotay as

  well. I appreciate your help. Let me know if there's anything I can

  do. Anything at all."

  "Why, you're quite welcome, Mr. Paris." The doctor smiled. He'd been

  practicing his smile in the mirror. It still needed work, but it

  looked more natural now. Or at least not quite as scary.

  As Tom neared the exit, he half turned. "Doc, I noticed you aren't

  calling her Crewman Shadow. Why is that?"

  "She asked me to call her Malista," the EMH replied matter-of-factly.

  Tom grinned. "In that case, call me Tom. It's all in the family, you

  know."

  "Thank you, Tom. Good night." The doctor was strangely pleased at the

  idea of being asked to address members of the crew on a first name

  basis. It made him believe that he was successfully fitting into the

  Voyager family. However, it did make deciding on a name for himself

  more of a priority. He frowned thoughtfully.

  Paris went to find B'Elanna. He just hoped for the sake of his stomach

  and his mood, he could find an appetite again.

  ************************

  Aron Dalby took another glance around the big top. He grinned in

  affectionate amusement as he c
aught a glimpse of Gerron's expression.

  The young Bajoran had never seen a circus and was duly impressed with

  his surroundings and with the performance of Malista and Harry Kim as

  he watched them working out high above them on the trapeze.

  Diane was watching them as well. "I told you I didn't think she had a

  problem with Harry."

  Aron nodded, slipping his arm around her waist. "I know. But if Kim's

  not the problem, who is?"

  "Whoever it is," Gerron said grimly, "It's a 'Fleeter. We're on the

  same duty shift and I've managed to be around to escort Malista and

  check up on her. Every time we pass a 'Fleeter, she tenses up."

  Diane's organized librarian mind processed that. "Every time? Every

  Starfleet crewman?" she prodded.

  The young man thought about it. "Just the men."

  "All the Starfleet men?"

  He tried to remember specifically. "Not Paris. Not Simms. She likes

  him. Not even Natwick."

  "What do you mean she tenses up?"

  Gerron looked irritated. "What do you think I mean? She acts like

  she's expecting to be attacked. Her face gets all closed in. She gets

  jumpy. Like she thinks they're going to---to grab her?"

  Dalby nodded his agreement. "With Malista, it wouldn't necessarily

  have to be a physical thing. She gets just as panicky if someone goes

  at her with words if she can't get away from him. Somebody is---was

  giving her a hard time. But whoever it is---he's a coward---or they

  are. They've stopped since the Maquis have been keeping our eyes on

  her. Or at least no one has caught them at it."

  "That narrows the field of suspects," Diane said. "Now, how can we

  find out who's been harassing Malista?"

  "What about Simms?" Gerron asked.

  "What about him?" Dalby responded.

  "He's a Security Officer. He could find out. They may keep records on

  'Fleeters who've been reported for---"

  "He's a 'Fleeter himself," Dalby objected.

  Russell poked him in the chest with her index finger. "So am I. Don't

  be a bigot, Aron. Ethan is a nice man. Gerron said Malista's not

  afraid of him. They're friends. She might talk to him."

  "So you think we should tell him what's been going on?"

  "I'll talk to him if you like. I don't think it would do any harm,"

  Diane suggested.

  Dalby reluctantly agreed. "And I'll put the word out to the Maquis to

  lay off being so obviously protective, but keep their eyes open---and

  to watch Malista's back. Maybe we can catch them at it---whoever's

  bothering her."

  "Wow!" Gerron exclaimed, his jaw dropping.

  The other two followed his gaze in time to see Malista complete a

  perfect triple somersault and latch onto Harry's forearms in midair.

  "I wonder if I could do that," Diane mused aloud. She totally missed

  Aron's expression of anxiety at the idea of his beloved risking life

  and limb. He'd faced armed Cardassian troops with less trepidation.

  *************

  The door signal and the door sliding open occurred almost

  simultaneously. Tom sat up so abruptly he tumbled off the couch,

  landing with a thump and an indignant growl.

  B'Elanna managed to stay on the couch as she rose to her feet and

  immediately began tugging her disarranged clothing into proper order.

  Harry Kim stood just inside the doorway and blushed. He'd entered

  these quarters so often in the past without bothering to wait for a

  reply. It hadn't occurred to him that Paris might not be alone. "I'm

  sorry, Tom. B'Elanna. I didn't think---I didn't realize it was so

  late---"

  Paris waved away his explanation as he scrambled up and sat down on

  the edge of the couch. "What's up, Harry?" Knowing his friend, Kim

  wouldn't have come to his quarters at this hour unless it was urgent.

  Kim hesitated, hovering indecisively between staying and leaving.

  Torres pushed her hair out of her eyes and made an effort to comb it

  with her fingers. "Harry! Sit down!" she ordered as she reseated

  herself on the couch close to Tom's side.

  The ensign sank wearily into the armchair facing the couple. "I wanted

  to talk to you about Malista."

  Torres sighed. "Do I need to leave again?" She didn't sound

  resentful. Just tired. People problems were not her forte. She reached

  up and finger-combed Tom's hair into a vague semblance of order. He

  kissed her wrist as it came within range. She slapped his arm

  reprovingly with a sidelong glance at Harry.

  "Not unless you want to," Harry replied. "Maybe you could suggest

  something."

  "What's up, Harry? Did you guys practice without us?"

  "Yeah. I just took Malista back to her quarters. I think she's tired

  enough after that workout to get some sleep tonight." Harry studied

  his fingertips as if he'd never seen them before.

  Torres and Paris exchanged glances, but decided to wait for Harry to

  tell them what was on his mind.

  "Do you know what's going on?" the young man blurted. "She won't talk

  to me. She pretends everything is fine. But she's losing weight. She

  hasn't been sleeping. She looks---I don't know---scared? Whenever I'm

  not with her. And I can't be with her all the time. She won't tell me

  what's wrong!"

  Torres stretched out her hand and patted his arm sympathetically.

  "Calm down, Harry. I know one reason she wasn't sleeping. She was

  working two shifts again."

  "What?" Paris and Kim said in unison.

  Torres rolled her eyes. "Don't you two start talking in tandem. It's

  bad enough the Delaneys do it all the time. I found out she was

  working during Gamma shift. She was sneaking a look at the repair list

  before she went off duty, then prowling around during the third shift

  working on the assignments. For a while, I thought I was losing my

  memory. I put a stop to it though. She should be sleeping better now."

  Paris was shaking his head in disagreement before she finished. "You

  treated a symptom, not the problem, B'Ella." He turned his eyes

  toward Harry. "She hasn't talked to me about this. There's something

  going on. I don't know what. The doctor said----well, let's just say

  that he and Chakotay and I are supposed to meet tomorrow to talk about

  the next step to take to help Malista."

  "Tom, what is it? What can I do?" Harry was almost pleading.

  Paris started to speak, but obviously thought better of it before the

  words escaped his lips. He shook his head.

  Torres frowned at him. "Tom, give him a hint here. I know you can't

  tell him what Malista says in her counseling sessions, but surely you

  can give him a clue!"

  The pilot's glance bounced between his two best friends as he

  considered how much he could say without inflicting injury to one or

  more of the four of them. "Okay," he said finally. "Harry, one of the

  problems is that Malista is very insecure. She was anyway, but when

  you and she started seeing each other, she seemed to be---snapping out

  of it. But then---Freddie Bristow happened."

  "And I got jealous and threw a fit!" Harry supplied.

  "And broke up with her," Torres finished.

  "Which made h
er even more insecure," Paris added.

  "But, Tom," Kim protested, "I've apologized for all that. For jumping

  to conclusions, for hurting her feelings. She's forgiven me. At least,

  she says she has."

  "Harry, if she said it, she meant it. That's not the point," he

  explained patiently. "The point is that she was beginning to trust

  you. And you let her down. You accused her of using you. You accused

  her of chasing other men. Of being unfaithful to you." He shook his

  head sorrowfully. "You broke her trust in you. I don't mean to make

  you feel guilty or anything, but it's like she was coming out of her

  shell and you scared her right back in. Now it's going to be twice as

  hard for her to break free."

  Kim's face paled. "What can I do? How can I make it up to her?"

  Torres got to her feet and came to sit on the arm of his chair. She

  slipped a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Starfleet, you didn't

  do it on purpose. You were feeling insecure yourself---"

  "B'Elanna, that's no excuse! I feel like I kicked her when she was

  already down. Tom, what should I do?"

  "Harry, you're doing a lot of things right. You're taking it slow with

  her. Encouraging her without pushing too much. One thing I've noticed

  though is that she never wants to disagree with anyone. Especially

 

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