Chapter 3
Chapter 2
Stardate 57129
The bridge crew exited the conference room onto the bridge and took their stations. Kitty took her post, starboard and aft of the command chair. She was familiar with the minor modifications to the control board that had been incorporated into the Sovereign Class ships. The only major changes were to the weapons systems. The controls were slightly different for quantum torpedoes than for the photon torpedoes she was used to. But the differences were minor, and she was confident of her skills with the control systems.
Data reported from Ops. "We are ready for wormhole entry at your discretion, Captain."
"Thank you, Mr. Data," he acknowledged. "Ms. Pryde, please open a channel to DS9 flight control."
"Channel open, Captain," she reported.
A voice with an Irish accent came over the intercom. "Enterprise, this is DS9. You are clear for wormhole approach. Godspeed."
"Acknowledged, Mr. O'Brien," said the Captain. "Regards to Keiko."
Kitty could hear O'Brien's smile over the comm. system. "Thank you, Captain. Sorry you couldn't stick around for a visit. Keiko and the kids would love to see you and the crew again."
Picard grinned. "Perhaps on the way back, Mr. O'Brien."
"Aye, sir. DS9 out."
"Mr. Data, please set course for the wormhole."
"Course set, Captain."
"Full impulse."
"Aye, sir," came the acknowledgment from the Helmsman.
Data spoke up again. "We will arrive at the wormhole in 32 seconds."
"Very well, Mr. Data." Thirty seconds passed. Then Picard said, "Engage."
The ship lurched wildly and was dragged through the wormhole. Kitty saw everyone, Data included, holding on to things to keep from being tossed around. In moments they were through it, though.
"All stations report condition green, Captain," Kitty reported moments later.
"Excellent. Mr. Data, please set course for the Shi'ar home world. Warp 7."
"Excuse me, Captain," interrupted Kitty, "that's 'Chandilar', not 'Shi'ar home world'."
The entire Bridge turned its eyes on Kitty in consternation.
Picard simply replied, "Mr. Data, please set course for Chandilar. Warp 7."
"Aye, sir. Course plotted."
"Let's not keep them waiting, then," said the Captain. "Engage."
*****
Kitty entered sickbay at exactly 1800 hours. Dr. Crusher looked up as the door whooshed open. "Ah, good, Commander Pryde," she said with approval. "Right on time. Excellent. You have no idea how I have to chase some of the members of this crew for their regular physical exams. You'd think I was using old-style needle syringes or something."
Kitty smiled. "Well, the way I see it, Doctor, I might as well get this unpleasantness over with as fast as possible. Waiting just draws out the suffering. Besides, this isn't even an annual physical… just a prelim." Kitty wished she were as confident as she sounded. She knew that this was where the trouble usually started. In sickbay. With doctors.
"Good for you, Commander." Beverly picked up her medical tricorder and ran the removable Feinberger scanner over Kitty's body. She "hmm"ed a few times and ran the scan a second time. She shook her head in puzzlement. She then went to a nearby computer terminal and opened Kitty's medical file. If the scans made Beverly curious, the open file seemed to fill her with complete consternation.
"Wha…?" She looked at Kitty. "Commander, there seems to be a problem with your file. A lot of the information that should be there isn't."
"What kind of information?" Kitty asked, as if she were curious about the missing information.
"A lot of information. For instance, there's no birth date in your file."
"Hmmm." Kitty said meaningfully. "Well, there must be a reason for it."
Beverly didn't notice Kitty's tone. She checked her terminal. "It's not file corruption. It's as if the file was sealed without the information." She worked the terminal some more, and became more perplexed. "And now I can't seem to access your file to update it."
"Maybe there's a security lock on it," suggested Kitty with a hint.
"Huh. There is a security lock." She looked at Kitty. "Commander, why would anyone put a security lock on your medical file?"
Kitty looked at the Doctor with exaggerated patience and said, "Doctor, if I could answer that question there wouldn't be a security lock on my file."
Beverly shook her head. "How can a medical file be secret? How can simple information like your age be classified? I'm the Chief Medical Officer of this ship, and I have the right to access the medical file of any crewmember."
Kitty looked Beverly in the eye. "Not mine."
They glared at each other for long moments. Eventually, Crusher backed down and said, "Fine. We'll do it your way for now. But the Captain will hear about this… and I will be contacting Starfleet Medical at the first opportunity to get a clean copy of your file."
Kitty's expression never changed. "You're welcome to try, Doctor. But Starfleet Medical won't override Starfleet Intelligence unless there's a specific medical emergency. And maybe not even then."
Crusher took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, controlling her anger. "Commander Pryde, as Chief Medical Officer, I need to have that information. If something happens to you, I need to be able to access that information to save your life. And if there is an emergency, I can't waste time trying to get Starfleet Medical to send me information I should have already had in the first place. What am I supposed to do? Wait for Starfleet to decide whether it wants to give me the information I should already have in the first place? You could end up dead before that happens."
"Then I die," replied Kitty. Then she smiled. "I understand the position you're in, Doc. Really, I do. Believe me, it's my life on the line here, and I have no particular wish to die at this time. But these aren't my rules. I didn't put the lock on those files. Starfleet Intelligence did. I think they were right to do so. But even if I didn't, it wasn't my choice. Besides, I knew the rules of the game before I started playing. I made my choices, and this is one of them. And frankly, even if you had all the information in that file, you wouldn't believe half of it." She shook her head. "Leave it alone, Doc. This isn't the type of hornet's nest you want to stir up."
Beverly slowly shook her head. "I just don't get it. What could be in a medical file that there is so much need for secrecy?" Then she looked at Kitty. "Fine, I'll back off… for now. But at least tell me if you have any allergies, any medical conditions I need to know about."
"Nope, nothing like that. I'm healthy as a horse."
Beverly nodded, making mental notes. "Well, I did notice some very strange results on your scans."
"Let me guess," offered Kitty. "You're scanning the minimal remains of high levels of radiation poisoning. You're also reading the remains of a very archaic surgical procedure… practically butchery, by your standards… in which my uterus was removed. And you're reading some very strange genetic results."
"Well, yes. That's exactly what I'm reading."
"Relax, Doctor," said Kitty. "Those are my normal readings. The radiation poisoning resulted in my needing the surgery." She was amazed at how calm her voice was while discussing this personal tragedy. "And it saved my life. Don't be too critical of the technique… it was a long time ago, and the most advanced treatment available to me at that time."
"I've seen Klingons perform cleaner surgery with a Batleth," commented Crusher.
"These were very unusual circumstances. I would have died without that surgery. As it is, I'm alive and grateful for it. Most of the time"
"But you'll never be able to have children," said Beverly indignantly. And immediately regretted it.
Kitty blinked once, then a second time. "Gee, thanks," she said, trying to blink back tears. "I hadn't realized that particular consequence. Thanks for mentioning it." Her tone was full of sarcasm and pain
"I'm sorry, Commander." Beverly was shocked at her own lack of bedside manner. "I didn't mean to tear open an old wound. I'm so sorry…"
Kitty wiped her eyes. "S'Alright. Forget it." She got herself back under control. "Do you need anything else?" Crusher shook her head ‘no'; still unable to believe she had said what she did. "Then I guess I'll be going. If you'll excuse me…." She hopped of the diagnostic table, and walked out the door.
In the corridor, she looked around, making sure no one would see her. Then she leaned against the bulkhead and wept once again for the husband and child she killed almost 400 years ago.
*****
"Come in, Commander." Kitty stepped into the office of Counselor Troi. The office was actually attached to Troi's quarters, an arrangement she found rather convenient.
Troi had invited Kitty to meet with her as part of Kitty's "orientation" to the Enterprise. It was standard procedure for all new crewmembers to have at least one meeting each with the Chief Medical Officer and the Ship's Counselor, to find out if there were any special needs that needed to be taken care of for the new crewmember. Deanna took pride in the fact that she and Beverly had never run across any "special" needs they couldn't handle.
Kitty tensed as she looked around the room as she stepped in. It reminded Deanna of a bomb expert she had once met… the person had been skittish every time he entered a room, always looking for a hidden explosive.
The room was simply decorated. A painting hung on the far wall, and there was a potted plant in one corner. There was a desk with a computer terminal against another wall. A sofa and two comfortable chairs sat in the middle of the room. Counselor Troi sat in one of the two chairs and gestured for Kitty to do the same.
"First of all, Commander, welcome aboard," Deanna began.
"Thank you," answered Kitty.
Deanna smiled. "I asked you to meet with me for a couple of reasons, Commander. The first was obvious; I wanted to let you know that I am available to you if you ever need to talk, if you have any problems adjusting, or just need a pair of ears to hear you out." Kitty nodded. "The second reason is a little more… touchy. I just spoke with Dr. Crusher about your meeting with her. She asked me to explain how sorry she is. She understands that she overstepped her bounds, and she regrets any pain she may have caused you."
Kitty nodded again. "I understand. And I appreciate it. Don't worry. I won't hold it against the Doctor."
"Good." Deanna answered. She paused a moment. "I have reviewed your file, Commander. I must say that I have never seen a personnel file so lacking in personal details. Don't worry," she said as Kitty began to bristle, "I have no intention of asking you any questions you aren't prepared to answer. But I do make it a point to get to know the members of the crew. Especially Executive Staff. So if you don't mind, I'd like to just talk with you for a while."
Kitty nodded. "When would you like to meet?"
Deanna smiled again. "I have no appointments scheduled until tomorrow. How about now?"
Kitty didn't seem very surprised. "That will be fine." She got comfortable.
"So," said Deanna, "tell me about yourself."
Kitty smiled back at her. "There's not much to tell. I grew up around Chicago and New York in North America on Earth. I went to several different schools, graduated each with honors. I joined Starfleet a while ago. I worked in Special Intelligence for a long time. When I left SI, I took several different Security and Tactical positions. Now I'm here."
Kitty noticed that Deanna was paying a great degree of attention to Kitty. It was unusual for a human to pay such direct attention to someone during a conversation. Vulcans naturally did this as a matter of course, but humans still tended to be put off by it. Deanna's ability to focus on her partner in a conversation would have been disconcerting to most people, but Kitty had grown up in a household full of telepaths. She was used to such scrutiny.
Deanna said, "I have a feeling there's much more to it than that."
Kitty showed smile of amusement. "Alright, I'm leaving out a lot of details."
"The details are the important parts, Katherine. May I call you Katherine?"
"My friends call me ‘Kitty'."
"'Kitty' then. And I'm Deanna." Kitty smiled in acknowledgement. Deanna continued. "The details are what make you who you are. I'm sure that you left off some of those details because of security. But not all of it."
Kitty frowned. "I don't like talking about my past."
"Why not?"
"Why dwell on past mistakes?" Kitty asked in return.
"Have you made mistakes?
"Everyone makes mistakes, Deanna. Some of mine have been lulus."
"Does one of those mistakes have to do with the surgery that Dr. Crusher discovered?" Kitty's face never changed. But Deanna felt Kitty's emotions spike as she asked the question. There was such terrible sadness. Such pain.
"What makes you say that, Deanna?" asked Kitty.
"Dr. Crusher told me about her findings," Deanna explained. "And she told me about how you reacted to Dr. Crusher's admittedly poor bedside manner. And just now when I asked you about it, I felt your emotions become very strong…" Deanna suddenly stopped in shock as mental shields snapped in place around Kitty. They were some of the strongest mental shields she had ever felt on anyone, anywhere, much less a non-telepath.
Kitty was bristling, clearly angry. "What do you mean you ‘felt my emotions'? Are you a telepath?"
"An empath," answered Deanna, confused. "I'm from Betazed, but I'm not a telepath. My father was human."
"And you didn't feel it necessary to inform me of that little fact?" Kitty asked angrily.
"I don't understand," said Deanna. "Did I break some sort of cultural taboo?"
"Yes," answered Kitty. "One of yours. How dare you invade my mind without my permission?"
"I haven't invaded your mind, Kitty," explained Deanna. "I simply read some of your surface emotions. I'm just doing my job."
"Your job?" Kitty sat for a moment. Then she pointed to a door. "Is that your private quarters?"
"Yes, but what…"
Kitty got up and went over to the door. It whooshed open and Kitty found herself in Deanna's bedroom.
"You can't go in there," protested Deanna.
Kitty went in and began opening the closets and clothing drawers, and looked through the contents. She was looking through Deanna's undergarments when the Counselor caught up with her. "Give me that." She grabbed the underwear out of Kitty's hands. "You have no right to go through my private things like this."
"Actually," replied Kitty, "I do. As Chief Security Officer, I have the right to make spot inspections for contraband as I see fit." She smiled sweetly. "I'm just doing my job."
Deanna looked at Kitty in consternation.
"Counselor, you looked inside my mind to my private thoughts without asking my permission. But you didn't like it when I performed the same kind of invasion to your privacy. Unlike you, I have regulations on my side. I happen to know that you broke both the Standard Mental Contact Protocols of Starfleet and the Telepathic Tenets of Xavier. Not to mention any rules that a Telepathic species like Betazoids would naturally develop for their own protection."
Deanna was taken aback. "I was just doing my job," she said, and immediately knew that her excuse had no strength to back it up.
Kitty looked at her. "Counselor, there are thousands of counselors just like yourself in Starfleet. I would venture to guess that only a very small number of them are psychic. Yet they manage to ‘do their job' without resorting to telepathic invasion. You, on the other hand, didn't even try to do so. Nor did you inform me that you were an empath."
"I…" Deanna was thunderstruck. She's right, thought Deanna. She had nothing to say in her defense.
"If there's nothing further, Counselor, I'll be going now." She used that phrase for the second time that day. "Oh, and by the way, you'll be happy to know that I haven't found any contraband in your quarters. So it seems you do listen to some rules of protocol." She walked out, leaving Deanna alone with her guilty thoughts.
Outside Kitty headed for the turbolift to her quarters. Dammit!!! Why can't people just leave me and my ‘secrets' the hell alone!?!
**********
Kitty sat in the Ten-Forward Lounge, sipping a synthahol whisky and staring at the stars as they streamed by with the effect of warp.
"May I join you, Commander?"
She looked up to see Commander Riker, drink in hand. She gestured for him to sit. "You're the senior officer, sir. Pull up a pew."
He did, and they stared both watched the stars stream by. "I've always enjoyed watching the stars," he said. "Even when I was a kid, I knew I wanted to be out here."
She nodded. "Me too, I guess. I was pretty young when I had my first interstellar space flight. But I felt like Alice after she fell through the looking glass. It was scary and exciting and insane all at once… and I loved every second of it."
"I know what you mean. I felt the same way, as a kid. Still do," he admitted, "though these days I seem to spend more time dealing with the responsibility of being a Starship Commander than just enjoying being ‘out there'."
They spent the next few minutes looking at the stars and remembering their youthful fantasies.
After a time Riker said, "I heard about what happened between you and Deanna."
"Yeah," she said, "I figured as much. I didn't really think you wanted to talk about your childhood with a complete stranger."
He grinned and made a touché sign. "Deanna told me what happened. All of it. And while she thinks your reaction was, shall we say, overly dramatic, she is willing to admit that she was wrong in her technical approach. She should have disclosed her empathic abilities to you at the start of the conversation. She apologizes…"
Kitty held up a hand. "Stop right there, Commander. I have no problem with forgiving, and maybe even forgetting. But the last time I heard someone apologize for someone else was in Counselor Troi's office. That conversation started off terrific and went downhill from there. This one has also started off quite nicely. I'd rather it not deteriorate. So let's break the pattern. Apology accepted. Now let's change topics before we start talking about my past."
Riker gave a wry grin. "Fair enough. Besides, most of my friends know I'd much rather talk about myself anyway."
Kitty chuckled. "You definitely live up to your reputation, Commander."
"My friends call me Will. And what reputation would that be? Or perhaps I should ask ‘which one?' I have so many reputations to live up to."
Kitty smiled. "You have a reputation as a charmer, Will. Bat those pretty eyes of yours, and all the ladies swoon and all the guys want to be your buddy. And the reputation was right."
"Is it working?" he asked.
"Yes. It is." Kitty admitted. "But unfortunately, it wouldn't work out."
"What wouldn't."
"Will, you are a very attractive man. But I am not the type of person you want as a bedmate."
"What?" Riker was shocked at her brazenness. And by the fact that she had read his intentions like a book.
"I'm sorry if I'm shocking you," she said. "But it's best that we understand each other right off the bat. I'm not a nice person. Nor do I wish to be. I can't be nice and do my job at the same time. So, when it comes to protecting the Captain, you, the rest of the crew and this ship, I am not a nice person to be around, and a terrible person to cross. I'm a killer by training and by personality. And I like it. You, on the other hand, are a nice guy, Will. Frankly, if I thought our personalities had even the slightest chance of meshing, we'd already be on the way to my quarters. As it is, I'm really flattered by your interest in me. But I am afraid that I must decline your offer, before it comes."
Riker was bemused by Kitty. After a moment he said, "You sure think highly of yourself. What makes you think I was making a pass at you, or a proposition?"
"Everything," answered Kitty. "The way you've been trying to charm me since you walked up to me. Your body language. Everything."
He nodded slowly. "You're right. I was, and I apologize for it."
Kitty chuckled. "No offense taken, Will. I appreciate it, actually. And if things were different…"
He smiled. "Just as long as it doesn't affect…"
"It doesn't."
"Good. I'm glad. Because if I can't take you to bed, I'd like to at least try to be your friend, if you'll let me."
"Friend," Kitty mused. "I don't have many of those. I'd like that, Will."
"Excellent," he said. "Then as my friend, I am inviting you to a poker game tomorrow night in my quarters at 21:00."
"Poker, hmmm," Kitty was thoughtful. "I haven't played poker in a long time. And I happen to know that you have something of a reputation as a card shark."
Riker smiled his most innocent smile. "Card shark? Me? Bite your tongue."
Kitty chuckled. "Who else plays?"
"The Bridge Crew, except the Captain. Though on occasion he sits in."
Kitty was wide-eyed. "Wait a minute. You want me to join a poker game with a guy who can see through the cards, an android who can stack the deck without us seeing it, an empath who can tell if we are bluffing or not, a doctor who can read body language and one of the most notorious card sharks in Starfleet?"
Riker smiled. "Yep."
Kitty laughed. "Sounds like fun. I'll be there. Should I bring anything?"
Riker smiled an evil grin. "Just your money, Commander Pryde."