Personal Log, Stardate 43126.4

It has been approximately thirty one minutes, fifty two seconds, and seven point eight milliseconds since Ensign Craig's accident in Engineering. Fortunately the engine was largely undamaged, despite the disastrous outcome my calculations predicted, and was soon repaired once the engineering crew were returned to their posts. I have returned to sickbay to ensure that Dr. Crusher has indeed stabilized her condition-and to evaluate the damages to her person.

When I walked in, Craig was still unconscious in the surgical biobed, and Dr. Crusher was standing on the far side of the sensor cluster with one elbow in her hand and the other hand over her mouth. She looked as if in deep thought, yet by her body language was apprehensive. She was not looking at the readings on the cluster, but at Craig herself. Even from three metres away I noticed something wrong with the patient. Very wrong. Still I had to ask.

"Dr. Crusher?"

When named, she seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts held her transfixed. She looked up at me and took a suddenly deep breath, but when she spoke there were no irregularities in her voice.

"Yes, Data?" she responded, putting her hands on her hips. By her previously observed manner she was either fatigued or sad. Taking into account Craig's condition I would suspect either with an equal probability. A feeling of discouragement or pity would be a very human response to operating on someone with such severe injuries, especially if the aforementioned someone is a friend or acquaintance. I walked up to the biobed, coming to a halt next to it. I looked down at the patient, noting the only slightly mussed hair and uncommonly calm expression. For a person with her personality and condition, she looked remarkably at ease. However, having been unconscious since the accident, she could not have been aware.

"How is she?" I inquired. The question was slightly redundant, as by now I had directed my attention to the readings on the sensor cluster. Nonetheless she answered.

"Almost stable," she reported after another deep breath. "She lost a lot of blood. We had a heck of a time closing the wound, as you can imagine."

"Being an android, I am incapable of imagination." I reminded, looking up at her again. She gave a small sigh and a smaller smile.

"I know, Data," she replied. I resumed perusing Ensign Craig's analysis. "However, she's a strong girl. She handled the shock very well. I suspect that she will recover swiftly."

"That is good," I observed candidly. Everything the doctor had said coincided with what I had read on the screen. I straightened and looked back at her. "Her physical health is much better than I had predicted. I have no doubt that she will be physically sound in very little time. It is her mental health that concerns me."

"That's a concern I share," she concurred, taking a bated breath as she looked at Craig again. "Knowing Davonna, she's not gonna like this one bit." That statement confused me.

"I do not believe anyone would take kindly to her current situation," I stated, furrowing my eyebrows and tilting my head at Dr. Crusher. "How could she being herself worsen her already difficult condition?"

"Guess you don't know her very well," observed the doctor. By her raised eyebrows and slight smile, I deduced that she must be surprised. "If you did, you'd know exactly how."

"No, I do not," I discovered after running through my memories. My curiosity was piqued. "What is Ensign Craig like?"

"She's…" Dr. Crusher paused to gather her thoughts. Craig must be confusing. "...well, she's no pushover, that's for sure. She's very strong-willed, a little impetuous sometimes, and she takes her self-competence and independence very seriously. I'm not saying that she should like this one bit, I'm just saying she's the last person I would want to undergo this."

Despite the doctor's good intentions, her explanation only confused me further. "Do you mean to say that if you were to choose who to be injured in this fashion, you would subject everyone else first to this injury and then her?"

That made her laugh. While I cannot harness humor at will, it appears to manifest itself through me at the most unexpected of times. "No, Data, it's a figure of speech. It means that she wouldn't handle this as well as someone else would. In fact, I think that out of all the people on the Enterprise she would have the worst reaction. Or rather, she's going to."

"All because of her personality?" I clarified. She nodded. Once again she appeared nervous, yet with a sense of resignation about her. To see those two conflicting emotions expressed at once baffled me. She couldn't seem to look away from Craig for more than a few minutes at a time.

"Gosh, she's so young," she sighed, shaking her head in what could only be called anguish. She was correct by human standards-as an avid and very recent graduate of Starfleet, I estimated her age at approximately nineteen. Upon reexamining the doctor, I discovered bags under her eyes and an unusually drawn countenance. I made these observations known before I could stop myself.

"Doctor, you look tired." I stated.

"Don't you worry about me, Data," she replied with a wry smile. I found myself unable to comply to her request.

"Allow me to reiterate-you look exhausted," I restated. She sighed again and ran her hands over her face, another sign of fatigue. "In your current condition, I believe it would be unwise for you to continue working."

"I have to wait up with the patient," she informed, closing her eyes for a moment. I began to form a potential solution as she gave more information. "At her present state it's not safe to wake her up yet, but I can't allow her to wake up alone either."

"I could stay, Doctor," I offered in a sudden flash of inspiration. "I do not need rest. I can ensure that she does not hurt herself, and as for me it is unlikely that she can harm me. In the event that she requires medical attention, I will awaken you."

"I really should stay," she murmured to herself. She was beginning to waver on her feet from want of sleep.

"Dr. Crusher, it is in the best interests of all parties involved that you get some rest."

"You really can't take no for an answer, can you?" she jested, raising her eyebrows over heavy-lidded eyes. I gave her a small smile in return.

"I am capable of accepting that answer, but it is the wrong one." I elucidated. She chuckled again, shaking her head in mock despair. I suspected that she would soon see my reasoning.

"Oh, all right, Data, you win," she relented finally, turning towards the door. "You're sweet. Just keep yourselves safe, don't try to explain what happened, and make sure she gets some sleep."

"You have no reason to worry, Doctor," I assured her preemptively. She gave me a final glance of gratitude over her shoulder.

"Okay, Data."