Second Officer's Log

[Cmdr JFarrington 0]

Second Officer's Log, Stardate 500501.23

Cmdr Jami Farrington, MD

USS Manticore, NCC 5852

 

"Suspicion"

 

Many times Jami Farrington had realized the wisdom behind Starfleet's reluctance to allow officers posted together to marry, especially officers posted in Black Ops, and most especially line officers posted in Black Ops. That Jami and Atragon were married and served aboard the same Black Ops ship presented enough problems. That Atragon and she were commanding officer and second officer respectively compounded the problem exponentially.

 

Reconciling the role of spouse with the role of starship officer was difficult enough without being a line officer and having your spouse as your direct superior. Given the oath of duty, one could not suddenly cease being a spouse. Given the bond of marriage, one could not simply set that bond aside, like so much excess baggage, for the sake of duty. The humanoid psyche did not allow such luxury. No matter how concentrated the effort to separate loyalty to duty from loyalty to spouse, somehow, somewhere buried deeply within the subconscious, the neglected loyalty would take a stand and wrestle for dominance.

 

Such was the situation now with Jami as she considered approaching Chief Medical Officer Kyle Mele about Atragon's revelation of privileged information -- specifically Margaux Roget's cranial implant -- to personnel on the bridge. At the time it had rendered Jami speechless and flooded her with a myriad of questions, none of which had she yet answered. How did he know of the implant? Why did he suddenly choose to break confidentiality? Were there other bits of undocumented confidential information he was privy to? If so, for what purpose, and was it important? Why . . . why . . . how . . . ? The list was endless, and the questions had been rolling around in her head ever since the incident. The questions persisted, creating a profound sense of unease that threatened to make her suspicious of everything Atragon said and did.

 

She needed help, and the only one she felt she could trust at this point was her long-time friend and medical colleague, Dr. Mele. If anything happened aboard Manticore to indicate that Atragon was either blatantly disobedient to Starfleet directives or outside the bounds of rational behavior, it would be the Chief Medical Officer in collaboration with a line officer who would remove him from command. Jami prayed it would not come to that, and she suspected Kyle felt the same way.

 

That is, until he said, "Jami, I may need your help. I have no reason to act at the moment, but.. as Atragon's wife, have you noticed any change in behavior at all? I am truly worried for the safety of the crew."

 

Jami studied his face for a moment, her heart in her throat. The need of the many outweighs the need of the one. Problem was, her husband was the one. Duty? Love? Which would it be? And why couldn't it be both? She made a joke, half hoping it would help her sort the problem out, but it didn't. It only made the problem worse.

 

Then she realized why she was *really* there - not because of Atragon, but because of herself, her own misgivings, her own problem sorting out the dilemma. She had to trust someone to do the right thing, and that someone was Kyle.

 

Then he posed the question her subconscious had hoped he would not ask, the question that had been foremost in her mind all along, but had been pushed aside like so much excess baggage. "If the situation continues to escalate, and I feel like the right thing is to utilize my authority as Chief Medical Officer, where would you stand in the mix?"

 

Jami sat there, momentarily struck dumb, her eyes fixed on Kyle's prompting but patient look, her mind vaguely aware of the activity outside his office, a constant murmur of monitors and movements of personnel that was the daily activity of sick bay. Then she gave the only answer she could honestly give. "I don't know, Kyle. I seriously don't know."