Fic: Observations, Ch 203
Since the disastrous situation with the entity known as Redjac, the crew has been struggling to cope with the aftermath. No one blames Scotty-he had no control over the situation and is not responsible for his actions while he was under Redjac’s influence. Nevertheless, the members of the general crew are uneasy. It is as though they are afraid he is carrying a fatal infectious disease and they desire to quarantine him. Scotty’s core group of engineers stand by him firmly, taking their meals with him, visiting Nyota in Sickbay and making an effort to include them both in their activities. Redjac was, we believe, an alien that feeds off of strong emotions, particularly terror. Now however, the predominant emotion is anxiety, the acid taste of paranoia.
No one has been more affected by these events than Scotty himself. He has taken to avoiding sleep, working on and starting a substantial number of engineering projects. Pavel has reported that Scotty lives off catnaps, catching twenty minutes at his desk, thirty minutes in Sickbay, fifteen minutes in the corner of a recreation room. Leonard and Christine are monitoring his condition closely. The brain scans indicate that no physical damage has been inflicted on his mind, but the psychological aftereffects are marked.
Scotty is an engineer, not a soldier. While those in the Security Department and officers on the command track are prepared for the idea that they may kill others or be killed themselves, Scotty has not had to face that possibility and come to terms with it. His primary interest is technology-warp engines and replicators-and his primary duties lie in that same vein. That is not say that he is unfamiliar with violence. He is trained to use a phaser as all personnel are, he is able to initiate a bar brawl. As Lt. Commander, he is familiar with the ship’s weapons systems and has, on occasion, used them at the captain’s orders.
However, he is not trained to be constantly aware and vigilant. Jim and I, and now Nyota and Sulu, are prepared for anything to occur at any time. It is necessary and to some extent, it has become habit. We encounter such strange circumstances with such consistency that he and I easily slip into our command personas even when we are on shore leave. Crises have become the norm for us. I suspect that if he and I attempted to reintegrate into civilian life, it would be a jarring experience. We live in such a regular state of emergency that we have, in many ways, become desensitized. I do not believe-I hope never to become numb to such circumstances. Nonetheless, our rate of emotional recovery has become faster. Leonard will argue that this is because we do not truly process our emotions, and that our post-traumatic stress will be ‘a thing of gruesome wonder’, but I do not think this will be the case.
Leonard and Christine are similarly well acquainted with the terrors that come with a deep space mission such as ours. As medical personnel, they too live in a relentless environment characterized by trauma and emergencies. At any given moment, Sickbay is always occupied with the bloody, the dead, and the dying. Crewmembers are regularly treated for PTSD, depression, anxiety, space dementia-any number of things. Starfleet has difficulty filling its rosters for the Medical Department because of all the departments, it has the lowest enlistment rate and the lowest retention rate. If one is to survive the experience of being a doctor or nurse on board a vessel such as the Enterprise, one must have exceptional emotional resiliency.
Scotty is an engineer. He has had contact with the wounded-he and Pavel transport us on a regular basis. He has seen the captain bloodied, he has seen all of us bloodied, at some point. However, he has never had to create corpses, as Jim, Sulu, Nyota, and I have, and he has never failed the wounded, as Leonard and Christine have. That fact, combined with the fact that he was possessed, completely unconscious when he attacked those he cares for most, is making this that much harder to bear and process.
He often sleeps in the biobed adjacent to Nyota’s and wakes up sweating from nightmares. There are times when he looks at Nyota and fear is evident in his eyes. Fear that he might have lost her, fear that he might be possessed and strike again. Nyota and Jim make every effort to assure him over and over, through their actions, that they do not blame him and that they are not afraid of him. They answer his unvoiced worries and say without words that this fear he has of himself is unfounded. He is not a monster, and it is ridiculous to think he might ever become one.
Leonard simply shakes his head and tells Scotty to give himself time to heal. He’s prescribed psychotherapy sessions with Christine. Scotty has not attended a session as of yet. Christine does not push him on the matter, saying that he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. She stated that therapy is useless if one does not actively want assistance in the matter.
Nevertheless, despite the emotional and psychological toll, he is remarkably himself. He continues to play pranks on others, he does not pass up an opportunity to make an engineering joke or some reference to Scotland. Scotty has taken a vigorous interest in pushing his sandwich making abilities to new limits, sometimes producing combinations that make Nyota scrunch her face in the most intriguing expressions of disgust. Rumor has it that he has made improvements to his still, experimenting with the varieties of moonshine. Nyota makes a point to watch his alcohol consumption. As far as she can tell, it has slightly increased, but there is nothing to cause alarm.
Nyota is recovering steadily. In her report of the situation, she wrote that she did not see her attacker since the fog was so thick. It never occurred to her that it was Scotty, and the attack came so quickly that she did not ever clearly see his face. The darkness, combined with mist, spared her the knowledge that Scotty was the one who stabbed her. She has chosen not to watch the security feeds of my confrontation with Redjac in the brig cell. The tapes and all files are also strictly off limits to Scotty, as mandated by Starfleet regulations. We would not show him in any case. He seems to have no interest in hacking the systems to gain access. Nyota has joked that archaic daggered weapons seem to be the object of choice when it comes to her wounds. She was already stabbed by the Gorn, shot with an arrow, and now stabbed again.
Jim is taking this all in stride. Nyota says that ‘a bored Jim is an annoying Jim’, and she understands why Leonard always designs an intense recovery regimen. They apparently have spent a considerable amount of time trading stories about me. Nyota has known me since she enrolled in the Academy, and Jim is apparently eager to hear any and every anecdote she has to offer. I am uncertain as to what to make of this development. Compared to who I am today, the person who taught at the Academy is almost unrecognizable. I have changed drastically.
Sulu and I have coordinated our schedules to spend time with Pavel. He had a strong reaction to Jim’s near death state. In retrospect, it is surprising that he did not have such reactions sooner, given what he has seen and done on board this ship. Sulu decided early on that work-related activities were strictly prohibited. He and Pavel had introduced me to hologames. We had such games on Vulcan, but they were for educational or training purposes. These games are purely for recreation and they cover a range of genres. Sulu favors racing games. It would seem that Sulu’s skills as a pilot might have their origin in them. I must admit a certain satisfaction in participating in an activity as casual as this one, among friends. Sulu and Chekov can become extremely competitive in the process of trying to edge each other out. I have won several races simply by waiting for the moment when one is disabled and the other has spent all his resources in that effort. There have been times, however, when they double-teamed me.
These past few missions have been standard scientific missions. Number One secured three ordinary, or ‘vanilla’ as Jim likes to call them, missions. Leonard and I report to her regularly, updating her on the general health and overall mood of the crew. The tension is dissipating. We do not have the luxury of going on such missions indefinitely, however. Number One made it clear that the upcoming missions are of an unpredictable nature.