Part 18
The load - overly so - music reverberated throughout the cabin, a palpable presence in the air.
" Every single night the same arrangement
I go out and fight the fight.
Still I always feel the strange estrangement
Nothing here is real, nothing here is right."
A chime at the hatch went unheard, so the person on the other side just banged on it with a handy piece of piping. Kane paused his music, and softly said, "Enter."
"Are you alright sir?" Captain McDonigal said brightly.
"Considering my orders, I'd say that's pretty stupid question captain." Kane muttered.
Instantly contrite, Captain McDonigal rephrased himself. "Of course sir. I'm sorry... but considering, how are you?"
Kane sighed, ran his hands through his hair and stretched. Voice artificially bright, he ran through the situation. "Lets see, I've ordered the evacuation and destruction of over twenty separate systems in the last six months. So, I've failed my oath, I'm getting my people killed, and losing ground in the process. In addition to this the enemy we face keeps on growing stronger as we grow weaker. We're about three jumps from a nodal system we have to control or lose this war, and our odds of holding there are less than the proverbial snowball in hell's. Oh, and lets not forget that every single person the Ithkul capture is killed in a gruesome and painful manner, and it appears that we are going to have to deal with them on a second front." Kane paused, and in a sad voice continued. "Is it any wonder I'm depressed?"
"No sir." Captain McDonigal admitted. "Then again, there isn't any reason for you to stay in here and not do your job."
"You know your job, I've given you your orders, and anything else is superfluous. Besides, you're doing my job better than I can." Kane snapped. "Mind leaving me alone?" Kane went to turn on his music, and Captain McDonigal snapped his hand out and stopped him.
"Yes sir, I do mind leaving you alone."
"How dare you! Guards!"
"They won't come captain. They have their orders, and I have mine. You're coming with me." McDonigal grabbed a hypospray from his pocket and injected Kane with its contents. Kane tried to hold onto McDonigal, but instead slipped to the ground, unconscious.
McDonigal sighed, and picked Kane up. Walking out the door, he placed his admiral on the medical gurney there, left in anticipation of his needs. Nodding to the medics, McDonigal returned to the bridge.
"Admiral, how do you feel?" A medtech asked.
Kane groaned, and began to sit up, only to be cut off by straps across his chest. His eyes flew open, taking in the surroundings. This wasn't medbay! "Where am I?" He asked.
"Psych ward one." The medtech - no, Kane realized, psychiatrist - replied. "How do you feel?"
"Angry. What the hell does McDonigal think he's playing at?" Kane snarled, and then paused. "What drugs do you have me on?"
"Verina and Metrina. Some people call them mind-open and emotion-out. Do you want the formulas, or is that enough?" The psychiatrist smiled. "We don't exactly have a lot of time to get you back in shape."
"Of course I don't want the formulas. But you can't use those on me unless I give permission!" Kane snarled, understanding why he was so open. Those drugs, in combination, acted to relax all mental barriers, preventing any self-control from interfering in a person's behavior, making them legally insane. He could do nothing but tell the truth and act as his basic impulses demanded - which was undoubtedly why he was strapped in, lest he smash the skulls of those idiotic, moronic sons-of-apes that had done this to him! To him, the person in charge of this fleet and the only hope of humanity! Hell, the only hope this entire section of the fucking galaxy had of survival! I never wanted it. I don't want it, but its mine. Kane paused, and realized he'd been speaking out loud. He began to eloquently curse the genome and ancestry of both the psychiatrist and Captain McDonigal, occasionally slipping out small bits that he'd forgotten about. The pain of Kirks repeated betrayals, his still being alive in spite of Kane's repeated - and unconscious - attempts to get him killed, and most of all how much it hurt, not that he was giving ground or losing lives, but that he had thought he could save them.
After a while, Kane began to fall asleep, and a soothing series of sounds and images played out in front of him, a pleasant lullaby. The days passed by, with psychiatrists carefully guiding him through his own mind, letting him find the problems and deal with them. Soon, less than a week after he had first entered, they certified him for release. One of them commented, "Man, that guy was messed up! It took forever to get him through this!" only to be hushed by his superior's harsh, "If you commanded this fleet you'd be just as bad off. I'm amazed it didn't take a month." A couple of others laughed - no one had needed a month in a psych ward since the invention of Verina and Metrina.
Kane walked into this conversation, and zeroed in on the officer in charge of the ward. "Just out of curiosity, did I say anything... Did I..." Kane stopped, and looked away.
"Sir, one of the primary rules of psychology is that what is said in the ward, stays in the ward. All records are permanently sealed, or at least until your next visit, and anyone who mentions anything you said while you were in there is court-martialed, instantly. We couldn't use the mind- drugs otherwise, even though they do cut the time needed for therapy."
"Thinking of which, I thought they could only be used with a person's permission?" Kane probed.
"There are exceptions. Cases of extreme depression, such as what you were experiencing, can often reach the point of becoming legal insanity. And as you are aware, those who are legally insane loose the right to refuse treatment." The officer looked away, and walked off.
"I see." Kane said, and walked out.
The load - overly so - music reverberated throughout the cabin, a palpable presence in the air.
" Every single night the same arrangement
I go out and fight the fight.
Still I always feel the strange estrangement
Nothing here is real, nothing here is right."
A chime at the hatch went unheard, so the person on the other side just banged on it with a handy piece of piping. Kane paused his music, and softly said, "Enter."
"Are you alright sir?" Captain McDonigal said brightly.
"Considering my orders, I'd say that's pretty stupid question captain." Kane muttered.
Instantly contrite, Captain McDonigal rephrased himself. "Of course sir. I'm sorry... but considering, how are you?"
Kane sighed, ran his hands through his hair and stretched. Voice artificially bright, he ran through the situation. "Lets see, I've ordered the evacuation and destruction of over twenty separate systems in the last six months. So, I've failed my oath, I'm getting my people killed, and losing ground in the process. In addition to this the enemy we face keeps on growing stronger as we grow weaker. We're about three jumps from a nodal system we have to control or lose this war, and our odds of holding there are less than the proverbial snowball in hell's. Oh, and lets not forget that every single person the Ithkul capture is killed in a gruesome and painful manner, and it appears that we are going to have to deal with them on a second front." Kane paused, and in a sad voice continued. "Is it any wonder I'm depressed?"
"No sir." Captain McDonigal admitted. "Then again, there isn't any reason for you to stay in here and not do your job."
"You know your job, I've given you your orders, and anything else is superfluous. Besides, you're doing my job better than I can." Kane snapped. "Mind leaving me alone?" Kane went to turn on his music, and Captain McDonigal snapped his hand out and stopped him.
"Yes sir, I do mind leaving you alone."
"How dare you! Guards!"
"They won't come captain. They have their orders, and I have mine. You're coming with me." McDonigal grabbed a hypospray from his pocket and injected Kane with its contents. Kane tried to hold onto McDonigal, but instead slipped to the ground, unconscious.
McDonigal sighed, and picked Kane up. Walking out the door, he placed his admiral on the medical gurney there, left in anticipation of his needs. Nodding to the medics, McDonigal returned to the bridge.
"Admiral, how do you feel?" A medtech asked.
Kane groaned, and began to sit up, only to be cut off by straps across his chest. His eyes flew open, taking in the surroundings. This wasn't medbay! "Where am I?" He asked.
"Psych ward one." The medtech - no, Kane realized, psychiatrist - replied. "How do you feel?"
"Angry. What the hell does McDonigal think he's playing at?" Kane snarled, and then paused. "What drugs do you have me on?"
"Verina and Metrina. Some people call them mind-open and emotion-out. Do you want the formulas, or is that enough?" The psychiatrist smiled. "We don't exactly have a lot of time to get you back in shape."
"Of course I don't want the formulas. But you can't use those on me unless I give permission!" Kane snarled, understanding why he was so open. Those drugs, in combination, acted to relax all mental barriers, preventing any self-control from interfering in a person's behavior, making them legally insane. He could do nothing but tell the truth and act as his basic impulses demanded - which was undoubtedly why he was strapped in, lest he smash the skulls of those idiotic, moronic sons-of-apes that had done this to him! To him, the person in charge of this fleet and the only hope of humanity! Hell, the only hope this entire section of the fucking galaxy had of survival! I never wanted it. I don't want it, but its mine. Kane paused, and realized he'd been speaking out loud. He began to eloquently curse the genome and ancestry of both the psychiatrist and Captain McDonigal, occasionally slipping out small bits that he'd forgotten about. The pain of Kirks repeated betrayals, his still being alive in spite of Kane's repeated - and unconscious - attempts to get him killed, and most of all how much it hurt, not that he was giving ground or losing lives, but that he had thought he could save them.
After a while, Kane began to fall asleep, and a soothing series of sounds and images played out in front of him, a pleasant lullaby. The days passed by, with psychiatrists carefully guiding him through his own mind, letting him find the problems and deal with them. Soon, less than a week after he had first entered, they certified him for release. One of them commented, "Man, that guy was messed up! It took forever to get him through this!" only to be hushed by his superior's harsh, "If you commanded this fleet you'd be just as bad off. I'm amazed it didn't take a month." A couple of others laughed - no one had needed a month in a psych ward since the invention of Verina and Metrina.
Kane walked into this conversation, and zeroed in on the officer in charge of the ward. "Just out of curiosity, did I say anything... Did I..." Kane stopped, and looked away.
"Sir, one of the primary rules of psychology is that what is said in the ward, stays in the ward. All records are permanently sealed, or at least until your next visit, and anyone who mentions anything you said while you were in there is court-martialed, instantly. We couldn't use the mind- drugs otherwise, even though they do cut the time needed for therapy."
"Thinking of which, I thought they could only be used with a person's permission?" Kane probed.
"There are exceptions. Cases of extreme depression, such as what you were experiencing, can often reach the point of becoming legal insanity. And as you are aware, those who are legally insane loose the right to refuse treatment." The officer looked away, and walked off.
"I see." Kane said, and walked out.
