The turbolift finally arrived and both women stepped in, Phillipa requesting the Promenade; Kira said nothing, apparently headed for the same destination.
“I don’t mind at all,” Phillipa said. “I appreciate being able to stay busy. My patients so far have proven to be—challenging.”
“From what I understand, Shathrissía zh’Cheen comes with her own set of issues,” Kira said. “I’m sure you’ve had your hands full—though I was hoping for your sake that she’d sleep it off. Have we seen the end of her outbursts, or can we expect them for the duration of her stay?”
Ro’s report must be pretty comprehensive,Phillipa thought, wondering when Kira would have had the time to concern herself with one visitor. Her confident tone in speaking of Thriss was also surprising considering she hadn’t shared her notes with anyone, including Lieutenant Ro. Maybe Councillor zh’Thane had been hounding Kira with her own version of Thriss’problems. Or the colonel might be drawing conclusions based on Phillipa’s appearance.
Staying focused, all night, through Thriss’s flare-ups of temper and her long, stony silences required Phillipa to stay physically sharp for extended periods. She’d managed, but not without paying the price. Untreated bloodshot eyes hinted at sleeplessness and she’d acquired a stiff walk from six hours sitting in a standard issue, hard-bottomed chair. Since Kira had shown up, Phillipa had periodically rolled her shoulders to loosen them; her neck muscles remained sore, even after Sibias’ massage. Kira wasn’t stupid—she knew physical exhaustion when she saw it and could logically conclude it was the result of a night spent battling Thriss. Still, Phillipa, feeling protective of Thriss, wouldn’t share information with Kira without cause. It was an old trick: pretend you know something in the hopes that the person who really knows will talk.
“While I respect your interest, I’m not at liberty to discuss specific patients, Colonel,” she said politely. “Patient confidentiality.”
Kira threaded her arms across her chest and stepped closer to Phillipa. Her expression, were it not so serious, could be read as humoring. “Regulations permit me to supersede all confidentialities—clerical, medical and therapeutical. You know that I could request your chart notes and you’d be obligated to produce them. Instead, can we agree that you’ll share what’s relevant to station security?”
Without ever raising her voice or moving into Phillipa’s personal space, Kira had deftly established her authority. Excellently done, Colonel. I can be reasonable—but on my terms.“Patient information relevant to station security will not be shared with family members, however well intentioned those relatives might be,” Phillipa said, quickly adding, “Just so we’re clear on that, sir.”
Kira laughed. “I’m not spying for Thriss’ family, though based on the number of people hassling you about it, I could see why you’d think I might be. You think this emergency exit permit Councillor zh’Thane asked for is justified?”
“Councillor zh’Thane has cause to be concerned. This is a trying time for Thriss. Going home to familiar surroundings could be critical to her well-being, especially if something unexpected happens to Ensign ch’Thane.” While Thriss hadn’t been willing to talk about why she launched herself at Ro, by dawn, Phillipa had learned Thirishar ch’Thane’s history by heart.
“Does the station have a reason to be concerned?” Kira asked.
“Thriss isn’t a threat to the station or anyone presently residing here.”
“And to herself?”
Phillipa contemplated how to answer, mulling through the long night’s events. At one point, she’d seriously considered calling in Dr. Tarses for a neuropsychiatric consult, wondering if psychoactive medication or neurological mapping techniques would benefit Thriss. For some, depression meant too much sleep or blue moods. For others, it took a more violent turn. For Thriss, it’s probably a bit of both.“Thriss is impulsive, volatile and passionate. Those traits, individually, are problematic. Combined with depression, they can be deadly. Her bondmates can offer her a measure of emotional stability that might mitigate any motive she might have to hurt herself. She wants desperately to please them. In fact, one of her biggest worries last night was how what she’d done at Quark’s would reflect on Anichent and Dizhei. With their support, I can help her.”
Silently, Kira considered her. Meeting her gaze directly, Phillipa didn’t shy away from the colonel—whatever it was that she was measuring. She had nothing to hide.
The turbolift stopped with a soft thud and the door admitting them to the Promenade opened. Not sure that she had been dismissed, Phillipa walked beside the colonel who moved at a brisk clip through change-of-shift crowds milling about.
Finally, Kira stopped and smiled. “Ro was right about you. Keep me apprised of any developments with Thriss.”
“Yes, sir.”
Phillipa waited for Kira to disappear beyond the curve of the Promenade before she heading for the security office. So that’s what a legend looks like,she thought admiringly. Your reputation hardly does you justice, Colonel.
And that’s saying something,she amended mentally.
“Have you ever been in love?”
Positioned within a meter of the force field, Ro blinked her eyes a few times, and mentally replayed Thriss’s question. Thinking that perhaps she hadn’t heard Thriss correctly, Ro asked that she repeat it.
“Have you been in love?” Thriss said, enunciating her words loudly, assuring that Ro couldn’t misunderstand her. As she strolled the length of the holding cell, she never broke eye contact with Ro.
Though the question’s frankness startled Ro, she refused to be the one to lose the staring contest. “That’s not relevant to the issue at hand.”
Thriss tossed her hair. “If you knew exactly how relevant that question was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’ve answered your questions. Humor the crazy Andorian. Answer mine.”
Combing her romantic history for anecdotes that might satisfy Thriss appealed to Ro about as much as eating an oversized bowl of gree worm consommé. She wasn’t so obtuse that she didn’t get the gist of Thriss’ line of questioning. After all, the primary reason Ro was carrying on a pointless discussion with an uncooperative Andorian (instead of hiding out at a dark balcony table in Quark’s, pretending she didn’t have a party to go to) was that Shar had left his lovesick bondmate for a mission into the Gamma Quadrant. Ro Laren was many things, clueless not being one of them.
“I’ve been involved in relationships. I understand how complex they can be.”
She stopped pacing and studied Ro. “You never have been in love. I can see it in your face. No wonder….” Her voice trailed off. “I’m sad for you.”
“Don’t be,” Ro snorted derisively.
“You’ve never connected with another person out of more than primal urge, loneliness or social obligation. That’s sad.”
Ro gritted her teeth. “My choices, my life—have no bearing on whether you get out of here.”
Thriss turned toward Ro, the smooth folds of her pale green tunic rippling as she walked. The cool cell lighting illuminated her white blond hair; the long wisps wreathed her face like a halo. “What you’re missing is the interconnectedness between individuals that transcends biology or emotion. It’s about redefining your life because another exists. You breathe because they do.”
Thriss’s voice, low and musical, had a mesmerizing quality that, when combined with her unabashedly romantic words, simultaneously enchanted and embarrassed Ro. All this ethereal sentimentality made her queasy. Commander Matthias better arrive pretty damn quick to rescue her or she would, she would—Ro didn’t know what she would do, but it wouldn’t make Councillor zh’Thane happy. Still, minus the dramatics, Ro understood Thriss’ passion when framed in the context of what she’d been willing to sacrifice for the Bajorans.