Martha sat, wrapping her legs around the stool. "I came over because... well, I saw the security briefing about our new arrivals, of course, and it mentioned that you sponsored them."
Inwardly, Helen's defenses went up. She'd been subject to a fair share of harsh judgement on the Enterprise and at the trial, simply for trying to talk to the Romulans and understand where they were coming from. Commodore Otrona had been wonderfully openminded about the idea of their living aboard the station, but it would be naive to expect everyone here to share her attitude.
But none of that showed on her face. She simply nodded, looking attentively at Martha.
"I did," she said. "I'm the Starfleet psychiatrist assigned to their case - and yes, I was the one that requested their transfer here."
She waited for Martha to continue, not wanting to assume she knew the ensign's motivations for speaking with her, or protest too soon against accusations that might not be forthcoming.
"I trust the commodore," Martha said simply. "And I trust the Chief. And I like that the Federation seeks rehabilitation, rather than punishment. But I know a lot of people aren't so happy about putting their safety where their beliefs are."
She took a deep breath. "So I just wanted to say - from me, personally, though I'm sure the Chief has said this too - that if anyone on the base tries to harrass you, or make you feel unsafe as a result of your work, please report it to us. We're officially assigned to the Romulans, but it's important to aware of all possibly endangered residents."
"That's a very wise policy," Helen replied. "I'm sure you will be." She knew how much the Romulans despised being stared at like animals in a zoo. But the ensign was trained as a Starfleet officer - and it was clear that she took her duties seriously.
She tilted her head. "But curious?" she added. "That's an unusual reaction, Ensign."
Disgusted, terrified - fascinated, sometimes, but the way people were fascinated by terrible accidents: those were the reactions to her patients that she'd come to expect, the past few months. Curious was a new one.
"My colleague Lieutenant Kaphoor says it's my fatal flaw," Martha admitted. "I just think - it must be hard, to come from another universe. And their own world gone, of course, so nothing to go back to. I'm not sure I'd still be standing, after all that."
She straightened. "Not that there's any excuse for what they did, of course," she added. "But I'm just... I don't know. I just wonder, what kind of people they are."
Helen nodded, slowly. "That's very insightful of you," she said. "You're right; nothing can excuse their actions. I'm certainly not going to try. But I also think it's important to try to understand where they're coming from."
Her mind flashed, suddenly, back to the mindmeld on New Vulcan - that feeling of emptiness in Nero's mind, the utter despair and overwhelming sense of loss - and she repressed a shiver. There was such a thing as understanding too well. She forced herself back to the present.
"I've found them to be very interesting people," she continued. "I'm not going to recommend that you try to strike up a conversation with them, Ensign. But I think if you treat them with respect, if you acknowledge their basic..." Humanity wouldn't do, of course. "Dignity, I suppose. And if you're patient - you may get to know them for yourself."
The face was familiar. Something from a security briefing?
Oh. Oh.
"Excuse me," she said, approaching cautiously, in case the woman preferred to drink alone. "You're Dr Noel, aren't you?"
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And sure enough, the young woman hesitating at her side was unfamiliar.
"Yes, I am," she replied, trying and failing to place the woman. She smiled. "But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."
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But none of that showed on her face. She simply nodded, looking attentively at Martha.
"I did," she said. "I'm the Starfleet psychiatrist assigned to their case - and yes, I was the one that requested their transfer here."
She waited for Martha to continue, not wanting to assume she knew the ensign's motivations for speaking with her, or protest too soon against accusations that might not be forthcoming.
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She took a deep breath. "So I just wanted to say - from me, personally, though I'm sure the Chief has said this too - that if anyone on the base tries to harrass you, or make you feel unsafe as a result of your work, please report it to us. We're officially assigned to the Romulans, but it's important to aware of all possibly endangered residents."
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"Thank you, Ensign," she said. "I appreciate that. I really do." She smiled. "And I'll certainly let you know if there are any problems."
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She tilted her head. "But curious?" she added. "That's an unusual reaction, Ensign."
Disgusted, terrified - fascinated, sometimes, but the way people were fascinated by terrible accidents: those were the reactions to her patients that she'd come to expect, the past few months. Curious was a new one.
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She straightened. "Not that there's any excuse for what they did, of course," she added. "But I'm just... I don't know. I just wonder, what kind of people they are."
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Her mind flashed, suddenly, back to the mindmeld on New Vulcan - that feeling of emptiness in Nero's mind, the utter despair and overwhelming sense of loss - and she repressed a shiver. There was such a thing as understanding too well. She forced herself back to the present.
"I've found them to be very interesting people," she continued. "I'm not going to recommend that you try to strike up a conversation with them, Ensign. But I think if you treat them with respect, if you acknowledge their basic..." Humanity wouldn't do, of course. "Dignity, I suppose. And if you're patient - you may get to know them for yourself."
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