A/N: More shout-outs to my beta, Empath89, and many, many thanks to Sareh, ChristinaTM, and kendrat for R&R. Warning label for language in this chapter. And as always, reviews are like candy at Christmas.

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Classified, Command Code Alpha-AA2

Starbase 5

Alemeda Medical Station - OB6

Patient #247

Audio stream: 3.2.9b-2

Video: None listed

Audio Transcript 7, Mark :28

Interpretive excerpt.


"Hmm...Acamprosate and nalmefene...? Yeah. I think those were the names they used in the twenty-first century."

"Hahah. Excellent. You've got an amazing memory. To me, remembering all those early drug names evokes bad memories of long, torrid nights curled up beside the PDR."

"Yeah...Heh. I guess. From what I remember, those drugs or some form of 'em, were around for a while, until we started usin' trimethylxenotaurindine. I heard tritauridine recently got the OTC go-ahead, which doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense to me."

"It did. You can purchase it under the brand name, Renew-Al."

"You are fucking kidding me."

"No, seriously. I saw it in the pharmacy the other day and read the name off the box."

"Did you, now. Or did Dr. Dehner use the brand name in her report?"

"Well, both."

"Mm-hmm."

"Are you really that surprised that I've been in contact with your ship psychiatrist?"

"...no. No, not at all. Why should I be surprised?"

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Did it work for you?"

"Yes. Do you want me to do a fucking back flip, now? Maybe do a little dog and pony show for ya?"

"You sound angry."

"Bonus round. Round of applause for the fucking genius. You sure you graduated from medical school? Sorry. I'm...skip it."

"Why did it stop working?"

"Dammit, it works just fine. It works, as long as you take it consistently and as long as you attend regular therapy sessions. And as long as you're honest with yourself and everyone around you."

"Do you think you're a dishonest person?"

"You know what else is funny? They never did find an instant cure that deals with long-term comfort levels. And ain't that term a crock of shit: Comfort levels. Hell, call them what they are. We're weak, we need it, we crave it. They're cravings, goddammit, not some nouveau PC term like 'comfort levels.' If we don't have it or if we don't do something about it, we die. End of story."

"You didn't answer my question. Why?"

"You told me I didn't have to answer anything I didn't want to."

"Fair enough...could I ask something else?"

"Shoot."

"When was the first time you began the tritauridine regimen? Did it help any?"

"Nearly died the first time I took it."

"Seriously?"

"Well...metaphorically. I was nowhere near straight when I came off that shuttle and 'Fleet knew it. The first few days were hell…I looked and acted like someone chewed me up, spit me out, and rode me wet. But wonder of wonders, they accepted me anyway. And I got three lovely vacation days in the sickbay for my trouble."

"Starfleet knew of your condition?"

"How the hell could I keep that a fucking secret? Come on. They put it in a contract as terms of my continued employment and unequivocally said these were the conditions I had to meet to stay in Starfleet. It's not like I had a choice, right? Prison, or Starfleet. Take your pick."

"Prison? Hardly."

"Yeah, okay. Whatever you say...Y'know, fuck this. I'm thirsty."

"Could you tell me more about what Starfleet knew, and why they didn't maintain stricter standards when it came to your case? I apologize for my lack of understanding but from my experiences, Starfleet medical upholds strict psychological practices and performs regular psychological evaluations for every cadet and crewmember. Why was your case special?"

"Are we really going there...?"

"I'd like to know, if you want to tell me."

"God, you're an annoying prick. Look, at the time only a few people knew but I'm sure if more people had uncovered the truth, I would've been out on my ass. Let me spell it out for you: Since tritauridine studies indicate a considerably minimal relapse rate, they decided to take the chance. I had to agree to regular counseling and to take the medication as prescribed but if I did that, the important brass were willing to let me continue in the program. So I took the damn drug under duress. Like I said, I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"But why you, in particular? What made you special?"

"Special? Special...? I started as a damn cadet. I started from the goddamn ground up. Tell me how that's so fucking special."

"It sounds like that upset you."

"It was humiliating. Don't get me wrong, I was glad to have a regular routine again and glad to be free from Earthside's insanity. Guess it was a win-win for Starfleet, too, because my articles and talents were, and I quote, 'near legendary.' They knew I was the best catch they were gonna get for years. And if I was a little rough around the gills, so be it - they figured they'd train the rest out of me. Most Earth experts either concentrate in research or stay in the private sector. Very rarely do people do both – and those who do aren't really good at it. Add off-world travel with no set destination or place, coupled with constant disease and destruction, and you've got a handful willing to try. No one has the time to keep up with all of the advances on Earth, let alone off-world. Let alone a flying death trap in space."

"But you did it."

"Yeah, but I didn't have a choice."

"Why don't we talk about how you feel on tritauridine. Then maybe we can discuss why it didn't work for you."

"Well…it does its dirty work. But ultimately, it feels like I'm…missing something."

"How so?"

"You know this part – or if not, you damn well should. Did you know tritauridine is so good, it lets you drink? Even lets you get plastered? Supposedly it manipulates the opiate receptors so well that you don't feel the need to go beyond a certain point. Of course abstinence is optimal, but who's optimal? Cocksucking pharmas. If that ain't the most stupid, numbnut shit in history, I don't know what is."

"Tritauridine gives you the opportunity to be normal."

"Whatever 'normal' means. It's not about freedom. It's a ticking time bomb, that's what it is."

"Is that why you stopped taking it?"

"No, I stopped because I was numb on it. I couldn't think creatively anymore. I could do my job, but screw research - screw investigating something new and getting a buzz off the challenge, because I can't think past the beta blockers."

"Your file says you have genius tendencies."

"Screw that, too. Geniuses encounter major personal problems in life if they're not stimulated, and/or grounded. So if I'm a genius, I apparently need to be grounded 'cause stimulation, I have in abundance. There's a lot of stimulation on a starship, y'know. Too many goddamn dying kids, not enough time for research...."

"Do you think your frustrations began when you had to take over as CMO of the Enterprise?"

"No. I don't know. Maybe."

"Is that when you stopped taking the medication, after the Narada's attack?"

"Yes--hell, I don't know. It just...I just got worse."

"After you received the summons."

"Yeah."

"About your father."

"…yes."

***END TRANS***