Kitty walked through the corridors of Supply Base 901 and headed for Sickbay. She was requested by Dr. Varl to come in for her physical. She knew one was due, but didn't really want to go. However, since it was necessary, she had gotten herself together and began the trek there. Her mind was still on all the new Officers she had met and her quarters and how much she still had to unpack.
As the doors to sickbay slid open, she entered and smiled as she saw the Trill doctor at his desk.
"Hello, Dr. Varl. I believe you requested my presence," she smiled.
He stood and walked to her. "Ah yes . . . Commander Mallory," he replied, extending his hand in greeting. "I requested your presence for a physical. I noticed in your file you were due for one."
"And me being new here, I suppose you thought it might be a good idea to make sure everything was in working order?" she asked.
"Something to that affect," he replied with a smile. "Why don't you have a seat on that biobed and I'll grab my tricorder for a scan."
She nodded and headed to the bed he had indicated. She took a seat just as he returned, tricorder in hand. He ran the instrument over her and took in her scans intently.
"Sorry I was unable to attend the dinner in honor of your arrival, but I was here," he indicated. There were still several patients in sickbay on beds in different stages of recovery.
"Yes, duty does call," she said, gazing around the infirmary.
Varl looked at his tricorder display. "Hmmmm...your stomach lining looks pretty irritated. Have you been having trouble with nausea or heartburn lately?"
"Nothing other than the usual for me," she replied.
"The usual? Does that imply that you have frequent problems with this?" Varl inquired as he continued the scan. "Your kidneys look a little rough as well...do you drink frequently, Commander?"
"I have frequent bouts of heartburn," she replied, her green-brown eyes looking forward and not at him. She knew where this conversation was headed. She had been down this road several times in the last couple of years. "And, yes, Doctor, I do drink frequently . . . As often as I can as long as it doesn't interfere with my job," she added.
"You may want to consider backing off. I am seeing some degradation in liver and brain function. In a human these are classic signs of alcohol abuse. And your Tanzaran physiology is even more sensitive to chemical changes. I'm not going to advise you to lay off drinking altogether," Varl said, "because your records don't show any other signs of incipient alcoholism. But I do want you to back off on pure alcohol. Try using synthehol instead for a while, and let your system recover. Unless--and I ask purely in a professional capacity--there might be something else prompting you to drink."
She grew very quiet for a moment and looked toward the floor. "Doctor, I know you're concerned, but don't be." She still wouldn't meet his gaze. "If I don't live the standard Tanzaran and Tanzaran hybrid lifespan of between 300 to 500 years, that's okay by me . . ."
"I don't know what's going on," Varl said, suddenly very concerned. He made a note on his PADD for a consult with the counselor. "But I can tell you that that's a very long time to live in physical misery...the damage won't take you down all at once, but it will gradually make you physically incapable of handling the daily challenges of life. I'm not talking professional competence here--I'm talking little things like motor control. At this point all I can do is advise you; please take this seriously!" he said. Don't make me force you into inpatient treatment!
For the first time, she met his gaze and smiled gently. "I've been through inpatient treatment before, but not for what you think . . . Command is fully aware of what I do and why . . . As long as it doesn't interfere with my job performance, they let it go . . . It's my personal life . . . Don't get me wrong. Thank you for caring," she said, "But there are some things even doctors can't fix. And I already have an appointment with the Ship's Counselor. It's part of my requirement for duty to see one once a week . . ."
"Very well; I've done all I can by advising you of the issue. And if you would do me the great courtesy of not reading my thoughts without my permission I would appreciate it," Varl said sternly. "I have physician-patient confidentiality to worry about."
"Don't worry, it's only the current thoughts about me that were the strongest," she replied. "For a telepath, its like hearing your name in a conversation before you enter the room . . . You listen for what's being said. But I will try to refrain from eavesdropping. It wasn't intentional. Also a bit of an occupational hazard, I'm afraid."
"Point taken," Varl said, relaxing. "Now, if you notice any change in your condition, please notify me immediately. And do take what I've said into consideration."
"The best I can say is I'll think about it," she replied, standing up from the bed. "And I'll be sure to let you know if anything else happens."
As she ran a hand through her brown hair to push it away from her face, he noticed something on her wrist. It looked like a scar. But just as quickly, her arm was back down as she straightened her uniform.
I'm surprised I didn't notice that before, Varl thought. Why would a shapeshifter keep such a hideous scar? As soon as Kitara left Sickbay Varl accessed his terminal. "Computer, access medical files for Commander Kitara Mallory. Include all counseling transcripts, medical priority authorization." As the data scrolled across the screen, suddenly everything made sense.
Varl tapped his commbadge. "Varl to Kassia--we need to talk."