Biases {Star Trek Enterprise fan fiction}

Biases [Star Trek: Enterprise Oneshot]

“It’s discrimination, is what it is,” Brigid insisted, “your own version of No Irish Need Apply, is that it?” 

“Ambassador …” 

“Whether ya think I’m a suitable candidate or not, ya know you’re not allowed to refuse to hire me solely on the basis of species, race, gender or age.” 

“Then we will turn you down based on incompetency,” Soval said. “Sharik, really, this is tiresome.” 

“And without even givin’ me a chance to tell you what I can do? Where’s the logic in that?” 

Sharik stared at her for a second. “Ambassador, Miss Kelly does have a point.” 

“Very well,” Soval folded his arms and did not appear as if he would listen to anything Bridie was about to say. 

She cleared her throat. “When I was sixteen years old, I was a babysitter at Starfleet. Then when I was at college – I went to Boston College – I worked in an end of life care facility. After I graduated, I had my Bachelor’s in Nursing and I worked at Children’s Hospital in Chicago for forty-five years.” 

“Why did you leave your last position? Were you dismissed?” Soval asked. 

“No, sir. I, well, I had seen too many little children die. You know, they would go into the hospital and at the end of it their parents could never take ‘em home. It, it gets to you after a while.” She stared at both of them. Would Vulcans – even one who, apparently, was a bit too old to care about emotional suppression and logic anymore – would they understand? 

“I will die soon,” Soval said, after a silence of some minutes. “Will you react the same way?” 

“I, I don’t know, sir. But if I may say, you are, you have lived your life, haven’t ya?” 

“I am one hundred and forty-two years old,” Soval said, “that is almost a logical observation.” 

“Almost,” she said, and then smiled. “Ya can’t admit it; can ya, that a human might be able to actually make sense, even in the midst of emotionalism, eh?” 

“How many kilos can you lift?” Sharik asked, suddenly changing the subject. 

“I can haul forty-five for long periods o’ time, and up to seventy if it’s quick. I also can do things like administer medications and even a catheter if necessary.” 

Soval made a face. “Can you be discreet?” 

“I am professional, sir! I won’t talk about what I’d be catheterin’.” 

“The Ambassador is referring to, uh, come with me a moment,” Sharik said. He led Brigid to a smaller room off to the side and closed the door. “He is referring to his impaired logic.” 

“Like I said, I am a professional,” Bridie said, “and it isn’t other folks business if he’s not always up to par. He’s an older gentleman and I wouldn’t say nothin’ ‘bout his logic or his emotions, no more ‘n I would tell the corner grocer if the man had lost all his teeth or somethin’.” 

“You would have to live here,” Sharik said. 

“That’s all right.” She didn’t tell him that she really didn’t have anywhere else to go. She had, indeed, left her position at Children’s Hospital voluntarily. She really had been burned out by seeing too many infants and young children reach the ends of their lives before they had really done anything. But with no family, no income, and little to do, she didn’t feel there was anything left for her in Chicago. She wanted to work, partly for the money, but mostly for the sense of purpose that it always gave her. 

They went back into the main room. “Have you made a decision?” Sharik asked. 

“You can start on Tuesday.” 

“Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but can I start right away? I have nearly nothin’ to gather from Chicago. My things can be posted to me. And I got no family to say good-bye to.” 

“That would be … acceptable.” 

She glanced up at a wall clock. Fifteen hundred hours. “Will ya be takin’ tea, sir?” Soval nodded. “I could go to the market tomorrow and get some flour ‘n raisins and yeast and see about making ya some scones for a proper tea.” 

“There is a replicator,” Sharik pointed out. 

“I know,” Bridie said, “but a house is more like a home when there’s baking going on. I won’t use butter or milk; I know your people are vegans.” 

Soval looked her up and down. Maybe she really was the logical choice. “Perhaps you could make something that would go well with plomeek broth.”