Summary: Eve fesses up to Zaharis about a serious lapse in judgment, and takes her punishment.
Date: 26 ACH
Related Logs: None

Chief Medical Officers Office Genesis - Deck 13
26 ACH 6735 Souls

The office of the Chief Medical Officer is a small room, used mostly for consultations and review of sensitive patient materials than the paperwork of the Medical department, which goes through the Naval Administrative offices. Still somehow it has file cabinets along one wall stuffed full of papers, two chairs in front of a desk behind which a large leather chair is set. On the desk sits a computer terminal.

Zaharis is in his office working on his computer. Or rather, giving it a faintly dirty look at something it just showed him. Computer, geez.

There's a brief knock on the door, followed by Eve's head that pokes in the door, "Major Zaharis…" There's a smile, but its purely obligatory. "You wanted to see me?"

Zaharis looks away from the screen at the sound of the knocking, the computer still casting its unhealthy glow on his face. He rolls his chair a few inches away from it, picking up his lukewarm coffee cup. "Yes, thanks. Have a seat. Do you want some coffee?"

Eve slips into his office, closing the door quietly behind her. When she moves, its clear that there is a nervous hint to her form, like a child who just got called into the principal's office. "No, thank you. One of the benefits of having the brewer in my office, is I have my fill and I get to have the jitters the rest of the day." She sinks into a chair, sitting on the edge as if afraid to settle in.

Zaharis nods, taking a sip from his own cup then. He sets it down near his cleaned ashtray and looks back at her. "You'd said before you left that you wanted to talk to me about Victor Farkas."

Eve perks up. "Oh! Right. Yes of course. Sorry, had I known that this was about, I would have been better prepared. Yes. Well. The long of the short of it is, that I believe he is a danger. Sociopathic, if you will. I believe that he will escalate, given an ounce of leeway. And now that he has been demoted, it will be even more of an issue because they've taken away the restrictions of his higher rank."

Zaharis waves a hand at the 'better prepared'. "You can send over anything further later." Back to the problem at hand, he folds his arms on the desk, listening to the rest with a squared jaw. "Do you believe he is unfit for duty?"

Eve steeples her hands together, pressing them to the curve of her lips that have now taken on a frown. She takes a deep breath, releasing it with a flare of nostrils. "I believe he's a danger to others on this crew. He's consumed with hatred to the point where he can no longer define friend or foe. He shows no remorse. His emotions are shallow. He's also expressed a deep need for stimulation, from trying to goad a civillian into a fight to the disagreement that resulted in Saint Germain having a broken jaw. Add in the lack of empathy and his poor behavioral controls.." Lips press together to form a stern line.

Zaharis nods slightly, listening. The nod seems to be more that he's listening, not necessarily that he agrees. "How many sessions have you had with him?"

Eve lowers her hands, resting elbows on the meat of her thighs as she leans forward. "None, sir. Officially. I have spoken to him on several occasions, witness to his behavior several others. He's never come in for a session, however. Nor would he unless ordered. To do so, would mean he realizes that he has issues, which a you know is not the case. He sees that he is in the right."

"On what you're saying, I can make a recommendation to his commanding officer," Zaharis replies, after a moment. "However there's no way I can medically pull someone from duty without their having had an official evaluation. If you remember you also told me before the Commander's meeting that you believed he intended to pose a threat, and he did nothing."

Eve squares out her jaw, her bottom row of teeth jutting out past the top as she exhales slowly. "I said he posed a threat. He's irrational, not stupid. As you said, he was under tight guard. I'm not suggesting the man be locked up, and the key lost, Sir. But after Pandora…" She shakes her head slowly, some of those men were her patients. Terrorists. "I'm not sure what chances we can take with the safety of others."

"I understand your concern, Lieutenant," Zaharis says. "Look at it from my point of view. I can't go up the chain and walk into the Commander's office and tell him a Marine is a sociopath — in essence a diagnosis that mandates his being removed, perhaps permanently, from society at large — but say that the diagnosis was made without a single official evaluation. I would be laughed straight out of the office." He pauses, looking at her seriously. "And considering the state of this fleet and the choices that will have to be made concerning people that are as high of a danger as a sociopath…like Mercer, Lieutenant…I -have- to be certain of a diagnosis. I have to." He pauses. "Now, as I said, I can and will make a recommendation to his CO in person. Majors Gaelan and Desusa don't take this sort of thing lightly. But we will need to have him evaluated, all i's dotted and t's crossed."

"That's all that this is about, right? To get the ball rolling?" Evelyn's eyes lift to Zaharis' face. "I'm not trying to put the cart before the horse, I'm just telling you my professional opinion. And on that note, and in consideration of full disclosure, there is something I need to tell you, sir, but I would appreciate it be kept in the strictest of confidences…"

Zaharis just makes a 'go on' motion with his hand, not bothering to defend his sense of ethics.

Eve purses her lips for a moment. "Prior to…" No that won't work, her brow furrows and she tries to think of how better to phrase it. "During some off time, the former master sergeant and I…" Shit, really. This is difficult. "Can I have that coffee, now, sir?"

Zaharis looks quite unfazed by the beginning of it, his expression making no outward assumptions. "Of course." He picks up the carafe on his desk and turns over one of the clean mugs, filling it about 3/4ths way. There are sugar packets nearby, ones that look untouched.

Eve doesn't bother with doctoring her coffee, they teach you how to drink it black and not waste precious studying time on adding cream and sugar back in med school. She also doesn't bother drinking the coffee, merely uses the cup as a focal point, wrapping her hands around it and garnering warmth from it. "There was a time when Victor Farkas and I were intimate. I don't want that to emerge later, and become a point of contention."

Zaharis sips his own coffee as she talks. As she finishes though, he puts it back down. There's a long pause. "How recently was this, Lieutenant?"

Eve's lips form a grim line, "Three days after the holocoust, sir. Only that one time, and purely for a stress relief. I didn't really know any one on crew then and…" A sigh that sounds tinged with emotion, "The only reason I bring this up, is I know I made a mistake. One that I can't fix now or ever, but it would become irrepairable were I to take on the task of performing Farkas' evaluation, and this coming to light later. I spoke to Major Carter about this, briefly. This was the right course of action now, no matter the damage it does to my career. If I didn't think the Sergeant needed counselling, I wouldn't be risking everything I am sitting before you now. Nor did I believe he needed counselling until the morning of the Commander's meeting. If I were just out to damage the man, I would have just written up a report and stamped my official seal to it. I came before you because I believed this was the right thing to do."

"Yes. You certainly made a mistake." Zaharis sits back, looking at her. "Furthermore I have to say I truly do not appreciate hearing that an issue of both the wellbeing of a crewmember and a violation of military law circumvented both myself and the Marines until now and went to Major Carter, someone outside either department that should be concerned about it. I would be better given to believing you if not for the fact that your initial words to me were not that you felt Farkas needed an objective evaluation. You declared off the bat that the man is sociopathic, an extremely serious thing to be saying. I had to ask further questions to know that your call was not being made on basis of formal evaluation, something that should have been the first thing out of your mouth. And then you went on giving me a professional opinion for quite a while, all -before- you decided to tell me that your ability to do so was compromised. Now Lieutenant I am going to ask you, and ask you once. Is there anything else that I should know about your conduct with anyone that you have given professional opinion on?"

Eve raises her chin slightly. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"That depends," Zaharis replies. "Are you going to answer my question?"

Eve says quietly, "Yes sir."

Zaharis motions to her with one hand. He seems more tired than angry at this point, still tense. "Go ahead."

Eve remains in tones that sound distinctly subserveant, "Major Carter was not told the circumstances, nor any details of the event. When I said I spoke to him briefly it wasn't going over your head, sir. It was confiding in an aquaintance about apprehensions of my job. Frankly everyone is potential patient, which limits me in everything from friendships to relationships. Even you and Major Zimmerman don't want to 'add to my troubles' now. But I can honestly say I have not breeched the standard of conduct prior or since, sir."

"Friendship and relationships are one thing, Lieutenant," Zaharis says, once she's done. "I don't expect and have never expected you to avoid all forms of friendships or relationships due to your standing so please, do not blame the military for your choices. Should you run into an issue where you feel you couldn't be objective with a patient, the only thing you ever had to do was say so, and it would be handled through someone else. That is my job as your commanding officer. However, fraternization isn't the same ballpark…it's not the same game. It's not even the same sport. The issue with Farkas is a breach of the CCMJ. Do you understand that much?"

Eve keeps her eyes on him, but does that fantastic thing of not focusing directly on him like when you're at attention. Her reply is simple, "Sir, yes sir." At least she hasn't fainted. Yet.

Zaharis' voice is quiet, his eyes watching her face as she looks past him. "And do you understand that the manner in which you presented your case about Farkas has now damaged your credibility with me?"

Eve works words over in her mouth, but as her eyes rim with tears, she just swallows them all down with what's left of her pride and manages another, "Sir, yes sir." With a voice that sounds cracked and raw.

"Alright." Zaharis draws a slow breath. "Lieutenant, I believe you to be a good officer. And I know, probably better than most, that good officers make mistakes. I have far more interest in seeing you get past this, work to regain what you've lost here, and learn from it so that you become that much better than I do seeing you court martialed or disgraced. Do you have the same interest?"

Eve makes a swipe of her face with the back of her hand, just as one of those tears crests over her dark lashes and spills down a cheek. Meanwhile, a cup of coffee growing cold is still gripped in her other fingers with an almost white-knuckled grip. "Sir…yes sir."

Zaharis nods slowly. "Then this is what I'm going to do. Due to the breach of CCMJ, I am going to put a letter of reprimand into your permanent file detailing the violation and my decision to handle it internally rather than through JAG. It will be cc'd to command. As of today I am suspending you from duty for seven days, and during those seven days you will serve arrest in quarters, the reason for which will not be divulged unless necessary. You will be allowed in berthings, the cafeteria, the head, and the laundry for that period. At the end of AIQ you will have an evaluation by me before returning to duty, to determine if a period of probation is needed or not."

Eve takes a steadying breath, at the tail end of which sounds as if there's a little sniffle. There's a tenuous look to her features, as if they might break with the slightest wind, and yet just endured a self-imposed shit storm. "Thank you, sir."

"I will hope that after this week we can put this behind us," Zaharis says, after nodding once. "And I hope you take to heart what I'm about to say. We are a cohesive unit, this department and this military. Regs are in place for a reason, but they're not there to make martyrs out of people. Any soldier can make friends. Any soldier can have a relationship. So long as we remember why protocol is there. It doesn't mean you have to make an island of yourself. Frankly, your effort to do so shows, and it's clearly damaging. It's not good for you and it's not good for people around you. Go on and make your friends. Find your outlets, have relationships where you know you're allowed to. If it happens that you have a professional-personal conflict, simply tell me. I will be absolutely fine with it, I promise you."

Its then that the tears start to fall freely, oozing out of the corners of her eyes to go unchecked. At least she's not blubbering, but it certainly looks as if she sprung a leak. She takes it to heart, more than can ever be properly verbalized. Head hangs in shame, tears falling heavily on the material of her pants to leave little dark blotches in their wake. "I'm sorry."

Zaharis pushes over his tissue box towards her side of the desk. "I believe you. You're going to have some work to do to get back to where you were, but I believe you can. Just start with what I've told you. You can take a few minutes to compose yourself, then I'm going to need you to return to berthings."

Eve glances up, reaching for a tissue, pulling the flimsy thing from the box and making a dab at her eyes to try and stem the flow. A swipe of her nose as she's standing, "I'll go now sir, if I am to be dismissed."

Zaharis nods, folding his hands on his desk. "You're dismissed, Lieutenant."

Eve raises her gaze finally to meet his, another quiet, "Thank you," that holds the weight of the Eve's universe with those two simple words, before she turn and slips out the CMO's door to serve her AIQ.

Zaharis only responds with a nod. He waits until the door's closed after her to gently rub his fingers over his eyes, and then he turns to the computer once more.

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