Calling Dr. Phil

[A Davis 0]

Calling Dr. Phil

A Joint Log by Dr. Nicolas Lepage and Counselor Amanda Davis

 

"What was I thinking? What was I thinking?" Seriously wondering about the PhD after her name, Amanda Davis wandered from the security complex onto the Midway, muttering, talking to herself. A few passersby caught the remarks but turned away after a quick glance towards security, putting two and two together.

 

Amanda knew a visit to Commander Chirakis in the brig wasn't exactly going to be a walk in the park, but it was something she had to do as the only bona fide psychologist aboard. What someone had or had not done had nothing to do with how Amanda treated them - or at least it wasn't supposed to. That person was still due the same concern and respect of any patient. But she wasn't quite prepared for the encounter - at least that kind. Even her counseling experience during the Dominion War didn't prepare her for the complexities of the being that called herself Chirakis Kirel.

 

She was garnering looks. Awkward looks. Strange, questioning looks. Looks not exactly appropriate to her position on the station. Looks that said the shrink has finally flipped.

 

Amanda stopped for a moment to rein in her emotional level and gather her thoughts before entering the food court. If she ever needed a cup of tea it was now.

 

Nick was in high spirits as he ordered a chicken sandwich from the replicator. Now with the research on the Athra well underway he was finally doing something he was good at. He had spent the last 14 hours in the labs with only a short nap in his office in between. No station politics or eccentric ambassadors to worry about. Just his research. Life was good. It'd be even better if he had actually gotten some usable results. But maybe he had and just didn't know it yet. It was high time he sat down somewhere to collect his thoughts and mentally review all the results he and his colleagues had achieved so far.

 

When he turned away from the replicator and started looking for a table he literally almost bumped into Amanda as she entered the food court. "I'm sorry Amanda," he hurried to say, glad he didn't spill his coffee over her.

 

"Oh. Nicolas." In haste she checked first her skirt, then his uniform. "I'm so sorry! How careless of me. Are you all right?"

 

"I'm ok. I only almost drenched you in my coffee. Are you ok? You look a bit...preoccupied." Nick stepped aside to let Amanda order at the replicator, waiting for her answer while she picked something.

 

Amanda gave a small sigh. "I look a bit preoccupied because I am. Totally preoccupied. And frightfully discouraged, distracted, and... "

 

She fussed a bit with her skirt, then finally looked up. "Nicolas... I hate terribly to interrupt your..." she glanced at his sandwich, "lunch break? But would you mind awfully if I did? I think this psychologist needs a... psychologist." She forced a smile. "And could we find somewhere a bit more... private?"

 

Nick smiled warmly, not sure whether he was amused or concerned at Amanda's trouble to find the right words. "I'm not a psychologist but I'm a good listener. So if that'll do..." He looked around, not sure any place around here would actually qualify as private. But there was a free table in an out-of-the-way corner of the food court. "How private do you want it to be? That table over there ok," he asked jerking his head in its general direction.

 

"Oh, that's fine," she replied, following his gaze after collecting her tea. "Just somewhere we won't be overheard."

 

She turned to follow him through the maze of lunchtime patrons to a table, secluded in an alcove. A passing thought that it might be for more intimate meetings came to mind, and that the two of them sitting there might cause heads to turn, but at this point she didn't care. People were probably already talking about her less-than-professional exit from security. When she was certain they were out of earshot from everyone, she began, doctoring her tea and trying to keep the disgust out of her voice.

 

"I've had quite a morning, Nicolas, what with the anxiety level on the station rising with every passing moment of lost sleep, double shifts, and coffee clutches exchanging gossip on the latest developments or charges or what-have-you. And to top it all off," she paused mid-stir and placed her spoon on the saucer, precisely aligned with the handle of her cup. "I decided that, what with all the goings on, I perhaps should go to the source and speak with... Commander Chirakis." She took a deliberate sip, as if in emphasis.

 

Nicolas had listened patiently, trying not to smile when he watched Amanda put the spoon on her saucer. Everyone had their little quirks. But it amused him to notice this particular one in the ship's counselor. "And what did Commander Chirakis say to, well I wouldn't go so far as to say 'unsettle you' but you seem...upset."

 

"Well, Nicolas, I think you've hit the nail on the proverbial head. Yes, I'm upset and unsettled, but it was nothing she said, it was...." She took another sip and took several breaths before returning the cup to the saucer. "It's me, Nicolas. I was totally unprepared for her. I probably had no business going in there, but as the station's psychologist I felt it my duty. Nicolas, I don't know where to go from here. I don't know how I can help her, or even if I can help her, or even if she wants my help. And, for the first time in my career, I feel totally inadequate."

 

Amanda took another few breaths. This time succeeding to calm herself. "I was wondering... if your experience with her... without breaching any doctor-patient confidence of course... would shed some light on the subject? I mean, how do you approach her? How do you deal with her?"

 

It was all Nick could do to keep from bursting out laughing. "I haven't had to 'deal' with her very often. Usually she approached me and quite honestly, I'm pretty sure she doesn't want your help. That doesn't mean she doesn't need it. Mind telling me what exactly happened? What did you tell her and how did Chirakis react?"

 

"Oh, my. React? Well, she mostly didn't. I think that's what's bothering me more than anything. But let me back up a bit." Another moment to gather her thoughts accompanied by a bit of mental shuddering, not really wanting to relive the past hour or so.

 

"First, it took a lot of effort to see her at all, negotiating the security gauntlet, if you will. And getting permission from Ambassador Drankum - who seemed awfully pleased that the commander might be declared insane, by the way.

 

"But to get back to the actual meeting, she stood in the center of her cell - a tiny, restricting cell, mind you - only about three by seven meters. She stood with her arms crossed, staring at me with those deep, dark, piercing eyes the whole time. I tried to be civil, passed the time of day, asking a few questions. It's not as though she didn't want to answer, Nicolas. It was more that she didn't have anything to say. It was totally unnerving. Finally, I asked her how she was and she replied she was 'Doing as well as could be expected,' and she gave the most horrid condescending grin you could possibly imagine, like she was throwing that pat phrase in my face.

 

"I asked her how they were treating her and she said 'Like a prisoner' which I should have expected, because it really is a stupid question now that I think about it. But it was more the way she said it than anything, as though I were a dummy, and, believe me, I certainly felt like one.

 

"I asked her if I could help her in any way, and she said, 'No.' That's it. Just no. She's been in there nearly five days, Nicolas. How can she possibly be so relaxed, so unconcerned, so self-assured and smug after five days in a cell like that, with no outside contact, with precious little around her, and with very little food - or so I'm told by the guards that she hardly eats anything. Now, tell me - what did I do wrong? Is there anything else I could have done, any other way I could have approached her?" Now she was rambling. She forced herself to stop and listen.

 

Nick leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and contemplated the question for a moment before answering. "I've wondered about Chirakis, too. I did a little background check after she came to see me once. I'm not at liberty to share any details of course...about why she had come to see me, not the background check. There's not much in her files that's not classified."

 

He leaned back again, carefully choosing his words. "She was born a slave; I don't think I have to tell you what that means. She grew up on a mining colony in Cardassian space, had to fight all her life...Cardassians, fellow Bajorans who didn't accept her because she didn't fit in. She apparently joined the Maquis and then Starfleet Intelligence. And quite honestly, I don't think I even want to know what she's had to do there. Being incarcerated for five days straight is probably one of the more...pleasant things she's been through, Amanda. And you have to admit, she's handling this the only reasonable way."

It was Amanda's turn to sit back for a good, long think. Take a deep breath. Again. In doing so she reviewed her own life and realized that no matter what her experiences were they couldn't possibly come close to those of the commander. Nor would she want them to. And the problem was that without those experiences she couldn't possibly relate.

 

A server came by to refresh Amanda's cup. "I think I see the problem, Nicolas," she said as soon as the server left. "In my enthusiasm to help - to maybe get to the bottom of this whole situation - I made the classic first-year mistake of assuming someone wanted my help and I went about my visit as naive as a school girl." Somehow the tea didn't hold appeal anymore.

 

"There are worse things than offering help," Nick replied. "It's up to Chirakis to accept it or not. She didn't. It's not your fault, Amanda. Our lives have been so different from hers that it's sometimes hard to understand her. But I'm sure she's often quite exasperated at what we do, too." Nick didn't mention that he was almost certain Chirakis didn't think much of him...at least not where his abilities as 2nd officer were concerned. "I think we just have to accept our differences and try to see eachother's point of view, no matter how difficult that might be."

 

"And that's the problem, isn't it, Nicolas? Accepting differences, I mean. Accepting the other's point of view, no matter how strange it may seem. Life would be so much simpler. What is it they say at the academy? Keep it simple, sir? A basic premise, a platitude, a cliché, but so very true," she said as she rose to depart, her thoughts still stuck in fast forward.

 

Nick was a little surprised at the sudden end of their conversation. He rose quickly as Amanda got up. "I'm glad I could be of help," he said with a smile, trying to hide his confusion.

 

"Thank you, Nicolas. You've been a great help, if only to bring me back to ground. I believe a good look at the commander's file might be in order. Then perhaps I'll visit her again. Unless, of course, she's released."

 

With that she was gone, moving as quickly as she could through the crowd. Thankfully, most seemed more absorbed in their luncheon than with any tête-à-tête going on in the alcove. A long, hot bath and a cup of herbal tea later found Amanda reading through the commander's file, along with several mission reports and a few recently-declassified recordings from the commander's undercover operations with Eddington's Maquis cell and a few unrelated missions against organized crime during the Dominion War. After several hours' reading and watching, Amanda came to the conclusion that she never would be able to relate. But at least she felt she knew her better and might be prepared next time.