The doors to Luna’s quarters parted and a flustered Counselor entered, her mind swimming. They had barely closed when her bag was discarded and forgotten on the floor. She paced, up and down, her shaking hands moving quickly in displays of wild discomfort and unease, frustration and anxiety.

Luna had never been shot at before.

She had spent an entire year in holodecks at the Academy learning to deal with stressful situations. And, she observed to herself in her state of mental disarray that she had kept it together enough to send a distress call, exactly as she had been trained to do. The training had worked. But nothing could have prepared her for a live phaser being aimed at her. What setting had it been on? Stun? Kill? Vaporise? In a different version of reality she would be dead. That was too much to handle. Her hands shook, her mouth was dry, her concentration on anything was faulty. Her eyes saw the room about her but registered nothing, locked into the reel of horror playing over and over in her mind’s eye.

Luna kicked off her boots irritably and continued to pace in her socks, the usually comforting feeling of the carpet below her toes lost in the swim of her mind. Coherency of thought went out the airlock and was just replaced with images. T77E’s face. The phaser beam. Barrington. The debrief. Even though she had done plenty right, the self-hatred that had been drummed into Luna since her childhood took over, chastising her for the smallest of perceived mistakes. She was lost in a sea of emotion and thought with no clear way out.

“Computer, play Robert Pearsall’s Lay a Garland.”

The music started, but it was stopped irritably after a few bars. It wasn’t right.

Nothing was right.

Luna sat on the ottoman. She stood. She paced. She caught herself pacing and stopped.

She sat. She rose again.

She paced.

After what seemed like hours of tumultuous waves of emotion and thought tired feet and aching toes, lambasting and analysis, Luna eventually managed to let the Counselor in her be heard and managed to accept some truths, now the fire of emotion had burned out a little. First, it was always going to happen at some point. And this was the best outcome for when it did as nobody had been hurt. Second, the worst was over, she’d come out of it okay and now could move on knowing that she followed her training and didn’t fall apart completely in the moment. There was pride to be taken from that. Third, that everyone who ever bet against her was wrong. She was a Starfleet Officer and was capable of more than just being sat in an office listening to the troubles of the day. Fourth, that C.B.T. dictated she listen to Elias and the security officers at the debrief. She’d done right. She had received compliments and caring attention. She wasn’t a failure.

“Computer, water. Ten degrees Celsius.”

A glass swirled into being from glittering lights and was soon emptied. A uniform jacket was discarded on the couch under the holographic window projector, the turquoise clashing horribly with the purplish-grey fabric.

“Computer, set window pre-set Luna four.”

A fantasy forest appeared on the window projector filled with purple and orange and cyan foliage. Small, cute alien creatures with fur, floppy ears and appealing little noses lolloped around the floor of the wooded scene, collecting roots and insects for their holographic sustenance.

“Computer, lights. Leave the projector on.”

Left dressed all in black punctuated only by rank pips Luna shed her trousers too and climbed into bed, staring at the light from the enchanted wood that filled the room. Colours danced on the opposite wall, vague and fuzzy and calming.

You’re okay, Luna kept telling herself. You managed it. You’re alright. You did well.

Four hours later

It was early in the morning. Luna would have to be at work in another few hours but sleep was a distant, elusive prospect squashed into insignificance by the events of the day.

Still in bed, Luna was sat upright, reading a book. It wasn’t the book she had had in her bag, it was another, more comfortable, more familiar book, an old friend for a difficult time.

Across her quarters Luna’s computer terminal beeped with an incoming transmission. This was uncomfortable, but Luna decided she’d better leave her cocoon of duvets and see who it was. Transmissions from her home usually came in at odd times, so it was probably her grandmother or Jason, her younger brother. She acquired her robe and scooted over.

Incoming call; Beth Smith.

Luna hit accept and sat herself in front of the screen. Her grandmother appeared and suddenly everything felt slightly better.

“Luna!” She smiled.

“H… hi Grannie.”

Beth’s pleasure at seeing her only granddaughter shifted quickly to concern. She could see Luna wasn’t at ease.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. Luna took a deep breath.

“S… someone shot at me!” Beth’s reaction was not at all what Luna expected; she smiled.

“Why are you smiling?!” Luna asked, incredulous.

“Because you can still speak,” Beth explained, warmly. “When you left here, hell even four years ago you’d have completely gone to pieces. But you’re okay. You’re okay, right?”

“Um, yes…” Luna admitted. “I’m… I’m okay.”

Beth nodded, still smiling.

“Look how far you’ve come, Luna!”

Luna nodded and a small smile appeared on her face and in her heart. She had come far. She was okay.