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
Trials 04 Shadow's Trial Page 14