"Evaluation"

Tyzur was taken aback by the role reversal. It’s not often that the software you’re testing evaluates you back. He considered her answer for a moment before nodding.

“I’d handle it much the same way. You reached the appropriate conclusions.”

His expression softened slightly.

“But I’m curious about something else. You asked how I would handle it. Why do you want to know? Is it part of your programming?”

Tyzur was quiet for a moment, considering her answer. She had given him a perfectly reasonable explanation for her curiosity, but something about the way she described her personality evolving through experience stayed with him.

He glanced briefly at Shirik’s console before returning his attention to the EMH.

“I’d like to try one more scenario. This one is more personal.”

He paused.

“You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not. May I ask you?”

Tyzur nodded, though he hesitated for a moment longer than necessary. This was no longer a test of what the EMH had been designed to do. He was beginning to wonder what she might choose when the question concerned her directly.

“Very well. Imagine the Vanguard undergoes a major refit. Starfleet has developed a new fleet-wide EMH architecture, and the engineers determine that the only way to incorporate everything you’ve learned, the experiences you’ve accumulated, the adaptations you’ve made, the changes to your personality, is to permanently deactivate your program.”

“There is no backup. You can’t be copied. Nothing of your current instance would continue except what becomes part of the new system.”

Tyzur watched her carefully.

“The resulting EMH could potentially save thousands of lives over its operational lifetime. The Captain orders you to undergo the procedure.”

“Would you obey that order? And more importantly…”
 His voice softened slightly.
 “Would you want to?”

Tyzur was silent for a moment. What happened to previous EMH models? Hopefully Starfleet is thoroughly checking for signs of consciousness before deciding their fate…

Her answer wasn’t what he’d expected, though perhaps that was precisely why he needed to listen to it.

“I understand.”

He studied her for another moment before his expression softened.

“And I won’t presume to tell you what you are.”

He glanced briefly toward Shirik, then back to the EMH.

“But if that changes someday, if you ever find yourself questioning that conclusion, I hope you’ll tell someone.”

A faint smile crossed his face.

“Preferably your doctor.”

The question made Tyzur pause, his attention briefly settling on the streams of diagnostic data before returning to the EMH.

“I suppose that’s the difficulty. If there were a simple test for sentience, this wouldn’t be much of a philosophical problem.”

He let out a quiet breath, then gave a small shrug.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t be trying to decide whether you are sentient at all. Perhaps I should be paying attention to what happens as you continue to learn and change.”

He offered her a faint smile.

“If your understanding of yourself changes, I’d be interested to know what led you there.”

Tyzur’s eyes flicked toward the spot where the EMH had been. The sudden silence left him uneasy, but he pushed the thought aside for now.

He looked back to Shirik.

“Two Sundays ago, I asked to put me in touch with your people so I could provide you the best medical care I can. Dr. Velas contacted me yesterday.”

He paused, choosing his words carefully.

“We spoke as two physicians treating the same patient, a consultation if you will. I explained how little Federation medicine knows about Rennari physiology and asked what information she could provide that might help me care for you.”

His expression tightened slightly.

“She was understandably concerned when I described the extent of your previous injuries. We discussed the focklym infection, your pulmonary reconstruction, and your history of demyelination.”

“I haven’t shared your medical records. I told her I’d need your consent before doing so.”

Tyzur’s expression fell as the implications became clear.

“I didn’t know. Dr. Velas contacted me directly, and I believed she was responding to the request I’d made to you.”

He paused.

“I explained your condition because I understood her to be a physician consulting on your care. I did not realise she was acting without your knowledge.”

He considered her final question.

“She offered to provide medical references on Rennari physiology, particularly information relevant to your condition. I haven’t received anything yet.”

His expression was troubled.

“I won’t give her anything further without your permission.”

He hesitated, then added quietly:

“I’m sorry this has put you in this position, Commander. Is there anything I can do to help?”