AN: Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, nor plan to make any profit from this story. The original creations are the Federation Intelligence group and Anna and her team.
Chapter 8:
Federation Intelligence Academy
Demerin, Anna Claire
Cadet, 1st year, 2nd semester
Age: 17 years, 8 mos. (see DOB)
Major Track: Science: Structural Data & Programming
Minor Track: Science: Biotechnology
Minor Track II: Science: Biology (Humanoid; non-Xeno)
Focus: Research & Development
PSY Note: General Rhodes has requested a full psychological profile for Cadet Demerin. He feels that Cadet Demerin has the potential for success in the Command Track but needs further assessment before she is approached regarding a change from the Science Track to…
Initial simulation performance(s) have proven that Cadet Demerin is able to lead successful campaigns with both large and small teams, demonstrating creative thinking, strategy and tactics. Her scores on the Applied Science & Engineering Aptitude (AS&EA) tests have shown her to be exceptionally…
After an initial meeting with the Cadet wherein a small scale psychological stress test was conducted, it is my concern that she is emotionally immature and prone to develop dependent/co-dependencies with subjects she deems protective entities. This tendency is due in some part to her youth and inexperience, but she seems to have a predisposition for this behavior. In physical situations that require quick thinking, instant decisions and action, Cadet Demerin is a capable and strong leader. However, in singular conditions requiring a great emotional effort or defense, the Cadet falters and will likely defer to authoritative figureheads regardless of…
A second meeting, wherein a more demanding stress test will be conducted, is scheduled for…
###
Session 2:
Anna sat at a plain metal table with her hands curled into fists on her lap. She was still and very, very pale. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears and her lips were slightly parted and she looked down at the surface of the table as if it held the secrets of the universe.
She looked maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. The expression on her face (shaken, dazed) and the way her large eyes seemed to take up half her face made her seem years younger, as if the previous hour and a half had wiped the years away.
She looked heartbroken. Defeated.
"Cadet Demerin, this session is over."
Anna jerked suddenly, startled by the voice and looked up. Her mouth trembled. But then the moment passed and she lifted her chin up slightly, almost defiantly. Her hands uncurled against her thighs.
"Yes, ma'am," Anna said in a soft, shaky voice.
She stood up, her shoulders straight and her entire body seeming to scream with discomfort, and pushed back her chair. It made a screech as it slid across the floor but she did not seem to hear it or mind the sound. With distant, unseeing eyes, Anna brought her hand up to her brow in a stiff salute.
"You are dismissed."
Anna brought her hand down slowly and walked towards the door. She passed near the camera and the harsh lights overhead shone in her eyes still thick with tears for a brief moment as she stepped out of the stark gray room.
###
… there are certain areas where Cadet Demerin shows extreme vulnerability to attack. She has produced acceptable reactions under a prolonged full-scale psychological assault however…
Based on her responses during today's session, I believe the Cadet is a good candidate for transfer into the Command Track. However, endurance training under sustained mental duress coupled with physiological stress is necessary to dismantle the cadet's current defense mechanisms and emotional instability and rebuild her…
The process will commence when the Cadet begins the Evaluation Boards. I recommend a…
###
Jim felt as if he were going to throw up.
Contrary to what he told Spock earlier, he had stayed in his ready room, watching session after session, speeding through some scenes and re-watching others, for nearly two hours. He knew Spock would have come in if there was immediate need for him to be on the bridge. He also knew on some level that he needed to see this for his own sake, pushing aside the added benefit of insight into FI methodology. He had read through Anna's psychological reports, staring at the words until his eyes stung and his stomach churned.
Jim had witnessed someone being slowly and systematically torn apart.
Whatever the Federation Intelligence had called it, Starfleet had a different name for what he had watched Anna go through: torture.
Sure, Jim and his co-cadets at Starfleet had been through torture scenarios, theoretical and applied, physical and psychological. But there was a level of trust involved, that the officers in charge would stop if a cadet was in any true danger, mental or otherwise. The exercises he had endured were brutal and exhausting but at the heart of each drill was a certain sense of safety. Jim had known that he was being trained to build strength of character, to hammer out impurities and to prepare him for unknown challenges.
Jim found no such framework in what he had seen. He now understood why the FI field teams were so small in number.
During a few sessions he watched, Anna had been brought in by stone-faced guards, bleeding and clearly in physical pain from a 'training' drill. She still carried her survival pack on her back and a weapon in her hand during those times. Jim had studied her battered face and torn hands, her body shaking with hypothermia and blood loss, as an unknown, unseen doctor ripped her apart with words. Her expression during those times, bewildered and helpless, were somehow worse than her physical wounds.
Some sessions had taken place in the middle of the night, with Anna still in her regulation sleepwear, hair uncombed, face haggard from lack of sleep and red eyes blinking tiredly at the harsh lights.
She had been drugged during some sessions, with her eyes so dilated that they were nearly black and her neck still bearing the mark of a hypospray. During those times, she had struggled to answer questions mercilessly thrown at her and looked so confused and so vulnerable and so damn young that Jim could not watch the sessions in their entirety.
Jim had seen Anna weep bitterly into her hands, her thin shoulders heaving with sobs as a doctor calmly told her that she was a failure, a disgrace, a dishonor to herself, her class, her parents, the Federation.
Over and over and over.
It seemed to go and on, with Anna growing frailer and weaker and smaller. There were different doctors, using different tactics- even different rooms and settings- to break her, to shatter her sense of self and security. Some tried to gain her trust at first, speaking kindly and gently, before tearing her back down into a wild-eyed, confused mess. Others had screamed at her, some had threatened. But each session would turn out the same: with Anna walking out, shaken and spiritually crushed.
And then things began to shift.
Jim noticed that over time, she began to grow apathetic to the doctors' mocking tones. She looked unruffled when one doctor yelled into her face about how pathetic and weak she was.
As the sessions became more brutal and more personal, Anna began to change. She grew less responsive. The bright, curious light in her eyes dimmed and then sharpened into something cruel and almost malevolent. Even the lines of her body and her face seemed to alter. She carried herself differently. When she sat down, her back was straight and proud and there was an arrogance in the sway of her hips when she walked through the door. She moved insolently, almost lazily and Jim could recognize the dare in each gesture; she had gone from being afraid of the doctors, to hating them, to taunting them.
She even looked physically stronger. Leaner and harder but without the fragility that had marked her earlier sessions.
Jim had felt something icy touch the back of his neck when, during one session, Anna had smiled at a doctor after he had threatened to hurt the members of her team. Her leg had been broken that time- she had literally been dragged into the room from a drill, and her hair was matted and filthy with sweat and dirt and blood. She sat on the edge of the chair, with her shin bent at an odd angle, and her breaths shallow and quick. Jim had recognized the sound from his own experiences. She must have been in severe pain and close to shock.
There was a long, ugly gash at the side of her mouth that had split open when she grinned. Blood covered her teeth and she had laughed at the doctor.
"They shouldn't use the same doctors twice," Anna had said, clutching the sides of her thighs, as if to keep herself together. Speaking clearly took an effort but she went on, letting blood and saliva drip down her chin without a care.
"I'm told I'm a bit of a computer genius but I bet you knew that. Did you know that I recently developed a facial recognition program based on the electrical output from certain memories? It's a complicated thing but in humanoids, faces seem to generate a certain signature output- something about the patterns of firing electrons to certain regions. You wouldn't understand it. I've been able to isolate those types of signatures."
"Why are you telling me this?" the doctor, a man with a low deep voice, had asked. Jim had heard a slight tremor under his words. He had seemed startled by the break in pattern.
"Because I've used my memories of these sessions as the test. I've been able to tie them back to the FI database," Anna said. Her smile grew wider and Jim thought she had looked almost insane. A wild, manic light had entered her eyes and she looked feverish and excited.
"I know who you are and where you live, Doctor Holmes. You and your wife and your children. If you hurt anyone on my team…"
The doctor had ended that session abruptly.
Jim had closed her file at that point. He was not prepared to see someone he loved (someone he had loved, he corrected himself) transform into something nearly unrecognizable. Jim could not stomach reading any more of the written psychological reports since they described exactly how Anna reacted and why and how to move forward with even more stress testing. The reports were frightening in their dry, clinical language; frightening because there was no empathy there, no humanity, no guilt or remorse. They merely asked how far they could push a subject and how much more the subject could endure.
The FI is in the business of creating sociopaths.
Jim laughed out loud at the idea but his laughter sounded hysterical and he could feel panic, bright and scalding, bubbling up from his stomach to the back of his throat.
"Door lock override," the computer's voice said and Jim looked up from where he stood, startled.
"Spock," Jim said. He rubbed his eyes and turned his back on the display, needing to stand between his First Officer and Anna's files. He didn't know who exactly he was protecting- Spock or Anna- but he knew he had to stand between them now.
"We've been hailed by the Chieftain of the Nuzum colony. He would like to extend a welcome to the Enterprise before we enter orbit," Spock said as he walked into the room. His dark eyes focused on Jim, impassive and bland as the doors closed behind him. "As Captain, you should be the one to receive his transmission. Otherwise I would not have…"
"You don't have to explain, Commander," Jim said. He felt tired and needed the company of people, his people, around him. "I'll come back to the bridge. I trust everything is in order- no explosions, Klingon attacks or disruptions of the space-time continuum take place in the past couple of hours?"
"There have been no anomalous occurrences since you left your post, Captain," Spock said.
"Well, a guy can dream, can't he?" Jim said, forcing himself to smile but Spock only stared at him. He rubbed his hand across his face again and took a deep breath. "Alright, let's go."
Jim took a step forward but Spock didn't move. Instead he tilted his head to the side and glanced at the screen.
"Captain, if I may speak freely…"
"Go for it."
"I assume you gained access to Colonel Demerin's personnel files based on the communication from Lieutenant Commander Scott. Were you able to shed light on her mission?"
"No," Jim said. He didn't want to look back at the screen. In fact, he felt like asking engineering to replace it with a completely different display panel altogether. In his opinion, the damn thing was tainted now. "Scotty couldn't open up her entire file without setting off the FI internal alarms but he was able to get into her psychological profile."
Spock raised an eyebrow, curious. Jim closed his eyes briefly, gathering himself. When he opened them again, he felt calmer but no less troubled.
"What do you know about the FI Academy's Command Track?" Jim asked quietly. Spock frowned. "Specifically their psychological endurance and stress tests."
"The Federation Intelligence is extremely guarded about their processes. I have no personal insight into their practices regarding Command cadets."
"What about hearsay? Rumors?"
"Captain, I do not deal in idle speculation."
"Dammit Spock, nevermind then," Jim said, annoyed. He began to move towards the door when Spock spoke again. This time his voice was quieter, almost tense.
"Tracks within the Federation Intelligence Academy are highly specialized and leverage different psychological methods based on traits required for certain fields," he said. Jim turned around and stared at him but Spock looked at the wall. "Because of the nature of their positions, commanding officers within the Federation Intelligence are trained to endure extreme environmental pressures."
"That sounds similar to Starfleet's Command track," Jim said. "So what's different?"
Spock hesitated. His dark eyes met Jim's own. "Their practices are rumored to be exceptionally severe," Spock said. "They use enemy techniques for cadet exercises."
"So did Starfleet."
"Starfleet's exercises were carried out in brief durations," Spock said. There was something in his even gaze that troubled Jim. "I have heard that the Federation Intelligence psychological stress tests take place right up to the day prior to graduation from the Academy."
"How long is the Command track?" Jim asked.
'Three years," Spock said. "They do not have summer or winter breaks in the year as Starfleet does and therefore graduate a year earlier."
She had to endure that shit for three years.
Jim was suddenly furious. Someone had hurt what belonged to him. Jim knew that what he felt was irrational- Anna hadn't ever belonged to him except in his mind but she had been his to protect once. His to love and his to lose. Anna had chosen her path in life and any abuse, any injury she received after she left him behind was her burden to bear- it was her own damn fault- but that didn't matter. It didn't matter that it happened years ago, that there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it. The fact that she was here now, that she was alive, didn't matter.
They had hurt Anna.
She might not have bore physical scars from her experience but he knew they were there. Just as his experiences had marked him inside. He knew what it was like, to hatehatehate and come close to being consumed by rage. Jim had been spared the worst when he had Anna- in her, he had purpose. Keep out of trouble and you get to keep her. Despite the beatings from Frank, despite the helplessness and loneliness he had felt at being abandoned by first his mother and then Sam, despite the contempt his teachers had shown him because he was belligerent and hyperactive but smarter than all the other stupid little brats in their care, Jim had survived and even thrived. Anna had depended on him and even as a child he knew he could not, would not let her down.
Anna kept him from losing all control, just as Starfleet and his ship and crew did now.
To see someone hurt her, to watch as she broke down again and again was nothing short of blasphemous.
"What did you see?" Spock said. A small wrinkle formed between his eyes, a rare show of emotion, and he turned towards Jim fully. "Were you able to gather any intelligence regarding Colonel Demerin's current mission from her psychological profile?"
"There was nothing there about her current mission," Jim said. He hesitated, unsure how much he should or could tell Spock then decided that it didn't matter. He could trust his First Officer; that was the whole point of his position. "But if you want to watch it…"
"Captain," Spock said and then paused briefly. "Jim, you seem troubled. I think it best that I refrain from viewing her personnel file."
"Spock, I wasn't looking at it objectively," Jim admitted with a sigh. "I want you to watch it. I couldn't… I can't go through the entire thing. There are reports in there and video captures of her test sessions- probably all the way up to her graduation, but I can't finish it. It's… too much."
I need you to do this for me and tell me how it ends.
How dangerous, how unstable, is the Anna on my ship?
(Is she still mine?)
At that last thought, Jim looked back at the glass screen. It was blank now, seemingly clean but…
"Yes, Jim," Spock said. "I'll have Lieutenant Commander Scott send her files to my secure link immediately."
Jim felt something in him loosen and he smiled at Spock. They didn't have a typical friendship and their relationship had not yet reached the potential Ambassador Spock had shown him, but Jim was beginning to understand the subtle nuances of Spock's personality. He knew that when Spock called him by his first name, he was honoring their blossoming friendship. Jim had asked Spock to do something for him, a personal request and Spock had agreed to do it. And having Anna's file sent under a secure comms line meant that Spock would keep the matter private.
"Thank you," Jim said relief evident in his tone. "I just… thank you."
Spock nodded once and then motioned towards the door. "We should return to the bridge, Captain."
"Yeah, okay," Jim said, walking towards the door again. He looked up and winked at Spock. "You know, I'm surprised you don't try and keep me away from the bridge more often. After all, I know you like my chair."
Spock's glare said more than words could.
###
"Slowly, Anna. Take it slow. You broke your arm so distribute your weight accordingly."
Anna looked down at Trig before curling her hands around the ropes, one on each side of her. She closed her eyes briefly.
Breathe in.
She pushed herself forward in the air, feeling her body swing up.
Hold.
She stayed that way for a moment, with the ropes wrapped around her lower arms and her body as stiff and straight as a line, and then swung herself backwards.
Breathe out.
She moved up quickly this way, coiling the ropes around her extended arms, slowly but surely rising.
She looked down at Trig who nodded solemnly and then she pushed her body up so that her legs wrapped around the ropes above her. Carefully, she moved her upper body so that her waist bent at a 45 degree angle and began to unwind the rope from her arms. Once free, she propelled herself forward so that she was standing up, with the rope now wound around her feet as a makeshift platform.
"Good job!" Trig called out. Happiness bloomed in her chest at his praise as she looked down at him.
"The view is nice up here," Anna said. She glanced at the closed door of the holodeck and surveyed the simulated grass below her. Long Andorian ropes surrounded her, seemingly suspended in mid-air. Fluffy white clouds moved slowly along the wide expanse of light blue sky. In the distance, gray mountains marked the horizon.
Behind her was a wide mirror where she glanced often to make sure her body was perfectly aligned with each move.
It was a surreal sight but beautiful and peaceful. Just the thing they needed after a tension-filled morning.
Anna extended one leg forward and wrapped another rope around her shin. She could feel the stretch in her muscles and she took a deep breath before adding one more loop. "Wish you were here to see it."
"Someone's got to spot you," Trig said, grinning. "Besides, I'm still a bit woozy from all that sleep I had a few days ago."
"It's called a coma," Anna said, shaking her head, frowning. She shook her leg free and then swung from side to side, gaining speed and force. When she had built up enough momentum, she let go of the rope she held on to and reached out for another rope. Within seconds, she had coiled it around her waist and hung nearly horizontal, face down, thirty feet from the ground.
She stretched up, feeling a pleasant pull in her back. "After this, I'm ordering you to bedrest."
"You're no fun," Trig said, with a mock pout. "You asked me if I wanted to play in the holodeck. I didn't know playing meant making sure you didn't break your neck."
"I asked you if you could be my spotter," Anna said. "I don't recall ever saying we'd be playing. I know your idea of playing and frankly, neither of us are up to it. And I've never fallen from the Andorian rope set. In fact, you were the one that got me started on these things in the first place."
She pushed herself up again so that her head was towards the ground and began to move her legs in unison, winding the ropes around them. She bent her knees and released her grip on the ropes. Anna hung upside down. She could see the long tail of her hair in her peripheral.
"Yes, well," Trig muttered. "You throw like a girl."
Anna glared at him and crossed her arms across her chest. The movement caused her to sway slightly.
"Women naturally have less upper body strength," she said. "And even with a reduced amount of N-serum in my system, I can still kick your ass on the ropes course. I want to see you try and climb up here."
"Show off," Trig said, but there was no rancor in his tone. Instead he grinned up at her again, his expression open and relaxed.
Anna knew that Trig was bored and tired after their strategy session in her quarters. She had tried to make him take a few hours off to sleep but he had refused. Anna suspected he simply didn't want to be alone but she still wanted him to relax a bit, short of asking Doctor McCoy for a high dosage sedative. Trig was a social creature, much more so than she was. Whereas she thrived on solitary activities- diving and strap acrobatics, he liked being part of a group. Being on the Enterprise with time to kill, amongst strangers and possibly hostile Starfleet officers, did not make for easy friendship-building.
Anna knew, however, that there were several holodecks on the Enterprise and if she could give her new First Officer a few moments outdoors- even in simulation- then she would. He liked being outdoors during the rare time off between missions.
Besides, she needed a workout.
They were both still healing but she had gotten a head start on him. She hadn't wanted him to strain himself yet and she was aware that his idea of fun usually included big guns, hand-to-hand combat and something unpleasant running after him. But the view and the wide open space would help put him at ease. At least until the rest of her team showed up.
Trig frowned suddenly and tilted his head to the side.
"Someone's coming, I think," he said. He glanced at the door. "I felt a shift in..."
Suddenly the doors opened and Jim Kirk walked in. It was clear that he had just taken a shower and shaved. Anna could smell the soap from where she hung and the tips of his dark blonde hair were still damp. She also knew he had just changed into a fresh uniform- there were creases in the front of his trousers and on the sides of his sleeves. The scent of laundry and chemicals replaced the soap and she wrinkled her nose.
Jim noticed Trig first which was natural since he was actually standing on the ground as opposed to hanging above it. She watched quietly as he took a step towards her officer with a frown.
He doesn't like Trig, Anna realized, with a little surprise. It was clear in Jim's eyes as he moved towards the blonde FI officer with a look of faint displeasure. He was trying to hide it by adopting a serious expression but Anna could easily see through him.
Odd.
Is it because he's FI or something else?
"Trig, have you seen…"
Trig calmly pointed up and Jim froze.
She supposed it was almost comical then, how round his blue eyes became and how his mouth dropped open in surprise when he realized where she was. For a moment, they just stared at each other and then his eyes seemed to crawl up the length of her body and then back down to her face.
His cheeks turned bright red and his eyes grew dark.
She dreaded what she knew would come next but she kept her face perfectly neutral.
"Anna, get down from there!" he cried out. His boots sunk into the dirt and grass as he stomped towards her, where Trig stood. "You'll hurt yourself!"
"Captain Kirk, I am perfectly fine," she said evenly but she didn't argue. She lifted herself up using the muscles in her torso, grabbed onto a stretch of rope above where her legs were and carefully freed herself before climbing her way down.
When she hopped back down to the ground, she made a show of dusting herself off and wiping her hands on the jumpsuit that she had borrowed from the laundry team. They had been nice enough young men, Yeoman Michaels and Yeoman Urkheimer if she remembered correctly, and had been all too willing to outfit her with appropriate workout gear. They didn't know who she was or where she came from and that suited her just fine. They had almost tripped over themselves in trying to get her clothing.
The jumpsuit was form-fitting but it allowed her to move among the ropes with little trouble. Back at the FI training pits, her team was used to getting around in next to nothing during physicals. They regularly trained together, both in civvies and their regulation uniforms so Anna hadn't thought twice about her current attire.
Now though, she felt exposed and suddenly self-conscious. Insecurities she hadn't felt about her physical state in many years rose up and she was annoyed with herself. She folded her arms across her chest and forced herself to look at him squarely.
Jim was studying her with an intense scrutiny. She flushed, knowing how she must have looked. An hour spent on the ropes meant that she was now grimy. Andorian rope courses helped develop balance and provided an intense sort of weight training. She was essentially fighting gravity and that worked up quite a sweat over the past hour.
The computer-generated breeze had done nothing to cool her down and she forced herself not to reach up and wipe her brow or to look at the mirror to her side. She was dirty and suddenly very tired. Her limbs were throbbing, though not painfully, but it had been awhile since her last ropes course.
"I just needed to stretch, Captain," she said calmly. "I was in no danger."
"Bullshit. You weren't using a net," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. His anger seemed to radiate from his body as he glared at her. "You could have slipped and there would have been nothing to break your fall. Or you could have gotten stuck and cut off your circulation. You could have gotten a cramp up there and broken your damn neck."
Jim's eyes flashed and looked at the ropes and then back at her. His angry expression dissolved any sense of embarrassment she had about her appearance; he had no right to be worried about her or to chastise her as if she were a child.
"I know what I'm doing," she snapped, uncrossing her arms. She felt herself move into a defensive stance. "Trig was here to watch out for me and the program is set to safe. I'm an expert on…"
"Those ropes are forty feet high. I don't care how well you think you know…"
"They're thirty feet high, not forty. And it sounds like you're concerned about the effectiveness of your ship's safety measures so perhaps you should worry about that more than…"
"I'm not worried about my ship," Jim bit out. "Or her safety settings. We have a perfectly good gymnasium on deck…"
"That deck isn't equipped with a ropes co…"
"Captain Kirk," Trig said. His mellow voice sounded almost amused. They both looked at him and Anna saw that he was struggling not to smile. She knew Jim would fail to notice the subtle quirk of his mouth but she noticed it. "The next time we train in the holodeck, I'll make sure we use a net. This was my failing as a security officer. I should have insisted on the proper equipment, especially in consideration of her injuries. It won't happen again, sir."
Jim opened his mouth and closed it, seemingly taken aback by Trig's comment. He nodded and a faint, smug look began to settle in his features as he looked at her with his bright blue eyes. Anna felt her ire rise and she turned towards Trig, ready to verbally reprimand him. He had deferred to Jim Kirk, of all people and she was not about to let him get away with it.
But before she could say anything, Trig spoke up.
"However, like Anna said she's an expert in Andorian rope maneuvers. Even invented a few of the positions that're now being used in both Starfleet and FI courses," Trig said. His pale eyes were serene but cautious as he looked at Jim. "I've never seen her fall or slip once in eight years. Anna knows her strengths and her limitations. It's why she made Colonel, after all."
The smug look disappeared and Jim's face grew dark but Anna knew he wouldn't press the issue. If there was anything that Jim wouldn't do, it was question her title or her abilities. After all, he was the youngest captain in Starfleet history- he knew what it was like to have his youth held against him. He was defensive about his promotion and those of his senior staff.
It was clear that Trig had read Jim's file and had drawn the correct conclusions.
Good job, Major.
But we'll still have to discuss the matter of you interrupting me.
She glanced at Trig and he looked back at her, his face guarded. He seemed to relax when he saw that she approved.
"Captain, I will be careful next time," she said. Jim narrowed his eyes and let out a short breath, but said nothing. "Now, you were obviously looking for me."
Jim pressed his lips together and she waited patiently for him gather his thoughts and speak first. She could see he was still angry which was odd… until she realized that his anger went far beyond being worried about her.
Did it bother you that much, Jim? Seeing my profile?
Suddenly the heat in his eyes, the careful way he studied her, took on a new meaning.
Anna knew Jim had always been protective of her. The Jimmy Kirk she remembered had been a champion of the underdog, the victim and the defenseless. As a child, Anna had been smaller and weaker than other children and any insult or injury to her made him lash out. It was his natural reaction; growing up he hadn't had much in way of protection so he took on that role as a defense mechanism. Anna suspected that there was a part of him that believed that he deserved pain and abuse and that by extension, he could not stomach the abuse of others. She could see the signs manifesting now. She supposed that because of their past history, his former feelings were even more acute.
Anna had been counting on this. It had been a calculated risk, to open up her psych files for his viewing, and she was hoping for a high return on the investment. The more preoccupied he was with her supposed mistreatment, the less focused he was on digging up information on Heretic and the FI.
But…there was a part of her that was still ashamed by the sessions recorded in her profile. She had been humiliated, and degraded, her worst fears and weaknesses laid bare for anyone to see. She was using herself as both a controlling measure and as a sacrifice, an apology, to Jim. She believed sacrifices had worth only if they made you bleed.
Still though, it was hard to look at him face on, knowing what he had seen of her.
"Captain?" she pressed. "Was there something you wanted from us?"
Jim glanced at Trig and then sighed. His shoulders were still tense but he seemed resigned.
"Yeah, actually," he said. "I wanted to see if you were still up for a tour of the ship. Trig is welcome, of course. But if you're busy then I can…"
"Actually, we're done here, right Colonel?" Trig spoke up. He looked at Anna and she could see that he really was done. Trig needed to rest. "Weren't you just saying that you were going to order me to bedrest?"
"That would be an abuse of power, wouldn't it?" Anna said. She looked at him fondly and had to stop herself from reaching out. She needed to touch him, if only to make certain he was truly okay but not in front of Jim. "I only suggested that you might want to rest. You might have misinterpreted my concern for an order."
"Nope," Trig said. He rocked back on his heels and grinned at her. "I distinctly heard the word 'order' and 'bedrest' put together and I've never been one to ignore commands, ma'am."
Anna smiled at him and she could almost feel Jim's eyes moving back and forth between them. She knew he was tracking their conversation, studying the way they interacted and that was okay with Anna. Seeing her in a playful sort of mood might help set his mind at ease and keep him from slipping back into his protective role over her. She needed him to be sympathetic and distracted, not personally concerned with her affairs.
It was a fine line to tread but she had no choice.
"If that's the case, then what are you still doing here, Major?" she asked. Trig laughed and saluted and she shook her head at him. She turned to Jim. "I'd like some time to freshen up but I would like a tour of the ship. May I have thirty minutes?"
Jim hesitated, his eyes darting to Trig, before nodding.
"Sure," he said. "That's fine. Do you want to grab something to eat afterwards? More than soup and fries this time, I mean."
Anna saw Trig's confused expression from the corner of her eye. Jim was trying to share something with her, in front of Trig- a private joke. He wanted to show Trig that he too could have a part of her that didn't include anyone else.
Anna sighed mentally.
…oh Jimmy…
"That sounds fine," she said. "There's no need to wait for me, Captain. I can meet you at…"
"Ten Forward," Jim said. His lips curved up in a half smile. "Our booth?"
Trig raised an eyebrow and there was a joke there, just on the tip of his tongue.
"You mean the same booth we sat in the last time we shared a meal?" Anna said, giving Trig a sharp look. He pressed his lips together but his eyes twinkled. She knew he would hold any comments until they were alone. But still.
"That works."
"Perfect," Jim said. "And since I'm headed your way…"
"You don't have anywhere else to be?" Anna asked, irritated. Jim shook his head.
"I was going to swing by engineering but that's only a few decks below," he said easily. "We can at least share a turbolift."
"How fortunate we are to have such a distinguished escort," Trig said, smiling at Anna. "Come on Colonel, let's get back to our quarters. We can continue tomorrow… with a net of course."
He looked up. "Save program. End."
"Confirmed," the computer said. "Current program saved."
The peaceful world darkened and then disappeared altogether, leaving all three of them in a dark room with softly lit grids. Anna was sad to see it all go. Something must have shown on her face because Jim looked sympathetic as he watched her. He made a move as if to say something but she looked away from him, embarrassed.
"After you, ma'am," Trig said brightly, gesturing towards the exit.
Anna walked past him towards the door, not bothering to acknowledge the wink he gave her as she did.
###
