Therapy
Posted on December 30th, 2011 by Kathryn Harper

A jumbled stream of muttered profanity from a dozen languages trailed Commander Kathryn Harper into Ten-Forward. Sitting down at the bar with a heavy sigh, she punctuated her diatribe with a simple fuck.

Jack Cahalan didn’t need his Betazoid empathy, or even his bartender’s intuition, to sense that someone needed to talk. Wearing his usual welcoming smile, Jack approached Kate and habitually wiped the bar in front of her with a towel. “Kathryn, good to see you. What’ll it be today?”

Jack never used the diminutive form of anyone’s name. It was a quirk she had noticed some time ago, the sort of thing to which a linguist would pay attention. Kate had no doubts that if Jack knew her actual Risan name, he would address her with it, despite the difficulties non-Risans had with its pronunciation. Usually she found this to be charming, but now she paid it no mind. “Whiskey, on the stones. I do not care what kind.”

“It’s ‘on the rocks.’ And that’s not your usual poison.”

Her only reply was a pleading look, so Jack poured a scotch and slid it across the bar. Kate threw the glass of amber liquid back, swallowing it in one gulp, and immediately started to cough and splutter from the unfamiliar intense burn. When it had settled, she croaked, “Another.”

Jack shook his head. “No, Kathryn. This isn’t you. What’s the matter?”

She locked eyes with him and answered in an unsteady voice, “Just give me another goddamned drink, Jack.”

“Not like this.” She looked as if she were about to offer protest, but Jack cut her off. “Now tell me why you’re trying to punish yourself.”

Kate stared down at the bar for several long moments, as if the lacquered mahogany held the answer, and without looking up, quietly said, “I lost two pilots today.”

“But you saved one.” The old adage held that the only thing that traveled faster than warp ten was news, and word of her rescue of Chaka had already spread.

“Any of my pilots would have done the same for me.”

“Of course. That’s what makes the Sharks a cohesive team. You all fly into hell with absolute certainty that someone has your back, but you can’t be perfect. Sometimes you lose people despite your best efforts.” Jack idly polished the bar as he looked past her and out the windows. “I’ve certainly seen enough of it here in my time. It must have happened to you before as well.”

Kate had raised her head to watch and listen as he spoke. “Yes, of course. But it never gets easier.”

“Nor should it. That’s what makes you work so hard to keep it from happening again. You give your all and risk your own life to protect those you serve with, as do they, but sometimes your all just isn’t enough. Of course, you know all of this already, Commander.”

His use of her rank was like a slap to Kate’s face, which was almost certainly his intent – to bring her back to reality. As a Starfleet Commander, this was something she had to learn to deal with better, and it wasn’t taught in the Academy or graded on the command aptitude test. “It helps to hear it again. Thank you, Jack.”

Producing another glass from above the bar, Jack offered, “Look, if you won’t try to abuse yourself, you can have another drink now. I’ll even join you.”

“Sure,” Kate replied. “How about a margarita?”

“That’s more like you.”

A few minutes later, they clinked salt-rimmed glasses. “To Sandbags and Shortstack,” offered Kate.

Jack nodded as they shared a drink. “I knew them, you know.”

“That does not surprise me. You probably know everyone aboard.”

He smirked, causing lines to frame his mouth. “Quite possibly, but some never come here. Even with over a thousand aboard, I still have an easy time remembering names, faces, and favorite drinks; just talking to people makes that a breeze.” Jack’s expression became melancholy as he added, “I have a hard time when they stop coming in. So many over the years.”

Staring thoughtfully into her glass for a moment, Kate answered, “I have never considered that. It must be difficult for you.”

“It’s worth it, though. I’m a civilian and could leave if I pleased, and sure, it can even get dangerous here for me at times, but I wouldn’t trade this job for anything. I get to know, and become friends with, so many of the good people who serve the Federation and protect our way of life, while also providing something in return. So yes, it’s sad when someone stops showing up for their usual, but that’s the case with any friend you make, and it doesn’t stop us from making them. Nor does it stop us from remembering them when they’re gone.” He took another drink and added, “I don’t forget any of them. It’s the least I can do.”

Kate suddenly understood why seasoned bartenders were revered for their wisdom on Earth. “You are very lucky, Jack.”

The bartender smiled. “I know it.”