Even those with the most experience of the giant floating city that was Starbase Bravo could get lost. Nobody really had need to go everywhere, especially not those with a rather narrow job description like Counsellor. Most of Luna’s work took place in the Counselling suites attached to the main hospital of the station, but on occasion she had reason to go somewhere other than there, her quarters and the few coffee shops and other communal spaces she visited. Today was one of those days. Luna felt like an intrepid explorer every time she ventured out into the wider station, seeing new things, new places, new faces. She once again told herself as she moved down what she thought was the correct corridor that taking a day to just explore would be fun. Of course, that involved being outside of her quarters on personal time, something the rather timid Luna couldn’t often muster. Her journeying would have been helped by using the station’s guided navigation, but that would draw attention to her and if there’s one thing that rook the permanently anxious counsellor to downright scared it was attention or embarrassment from strangers.

Eventually Luna arrived at the tactical station she had been searching for. The wide array of windows spanned many degrees across the sky and sat above an equally dizzying array of consoles that, Luna knew from her reading of case files, controlled some of the Starbase’s tactical systems. She stopped just beyond the doorway to take in her surroundings. They were certainly grand.

Lieutenant Alexander Kolokotronis stood at the tactical station, reviewing the incident report once more. The incident had been a serious one – a junior officer had locked weapons on a federation starship during a battle simulation. No shots were fired, but the officer’s motives and judgement had been called into question. An incident like this could not be ignored.

The doors slid open, and the Lieutenant prepared to greet the Counselor, as they both stood on either side of the threshold to the entrance. He turned his head slightly, the nodded in her direction. He could see the tension in her shoulders.

“Counselor.” He greeted, giving a soft grin. “You found your way.” He motioned towards a nearby console, his expression unreadable, even to her. His eyes wandered back to the PADD he had been referencing the incident report from, then spoke again, his eyes not wandering from the small screen.

“I assumed you’ve read the incident report.” He sighed, his voice even, and unassuming. “I don’t know if this officer lacked proper training, lacked nerve, or if he has a more serious issue.” He placed the PADD on the nearby console, exhaling as he did so, turning his shoulders to Luna. “Out here, any one of those can be a problem.”

He studied her up and down. He preferred straightforward answers, but this was no longer an isolated tactical issue. This was an issue of personal nature, mental fortitude, and emotions. That was her expertise – not his.

Straight down to it. Luna found this slightly jarring. In her work there was always a greeting, cordial smiles and warm invitations to come in, to sit down, to have a drink. On a moment’s reflection Luna supposed that a tactical centre was hardly the place for things such as these. If to the point was the order of the day, she could adjust.

“Yes sir,” she confirmed. “I um, I can’t comment on training b… but… well um… I was wondering… if you could show me the relevant systems? P… please?” The stammer. Of course she was stammering, she was stressed. It was also embarrassing. Luna hated being embarrassed. It made her stammer even more. Employing long-practiced methods she took a considered breath and steadied her mind. “I’m trying to work out if Ensign Rees is lying to me… you see,” she explained, finally able to look Lieutenant Kolokotronis in the face. “His psych history notes remarkable self-assuredness, jock-like behaviour. P… … …possible narcissism. So I’m doing the eval… the N word… resident expert on N….P.D. you see. He um, he claims it was a simple mistake, but I’m not convinced. It seems out of character and he explains things a little too eloquently. It feels like he’s p… playing to the audience. B… b… but I have to be sure, I could tank his career if I’m wrong.”

Alexander never intended to make the Counselor nervous, but he was well aware of the potential gravity of the situation, and her unfamiliarity with tactical systems. “No need to be nervous, Counselor. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He walked over to the tactical displays and firing mechanisms, motioning for her to follow him. “I acknowledge your concern for the young officer’s career.” He pulled up his information on the screen, allowing him access to the terminal itself. “….however. The path to hell is often paved with good intentions.” He grinned to her, jokingly, then turned back to the screen and collected a more serious demeanor. “It’s technically very difficult for any Starfleet personnel, regardless of rank or billet, to target any Federation vessel without bypassing a number of safeguards. I’ll connect to one of our phaser cannons and show you myself.”

He moved his fingers across the screen as he accessed the phaser control interface. The screen displayed a number of potential targets, including various civilian vessels, training drones, and one Starfleet frigate. He navigated past most, but then attempted to designate one of the Federation vessels as the systems’ primary target.

Immediately, a sharp chirp shrieked from the console, flashing a red warning on the screen, with a bright text that covered most of the interface: “Targeting a Federation vessel is prohibited per Starfleet regulations. Override authorization code required.” 

Alexander nodded to Luna, exhaling assuredly. He tapped a module button for the system to recognize his clearance. The chip blared again, this time with an additional message: “Warning! You are attempting to target a Federation vessel. Confirm action.”

He frowned, shaking his head slightly, then deactivated the display, disengaging the targeting protocol and turned again to Luna. “Even with my credentials and clearance, the system gives you one hell of a pushback, it won’t allow a target without extensive overrides. If the Ensign did this intentionally, he would have had to bypass multiple firewalls, which means it was definitely intentional. Based on what you told me, and his cavalier attitude, I think we have a bigger problem than just frayed nerves, but then, you’re the expert on that.”

Luna nodded. It was always slightly disappointing when patients lied to her, even if she already knew they probably were. She liked to assume the best in people despite her experiences as a child. That probably was a good thing, especially in cases such as this, but she had to do her due diligence. So Rees had lied. The question now was; was he fit to stay in Starfleet? That would depend on a few things.

“Thank you,” Luna said to Alexander gravely. “I don’t see how that could be an accident either. Oh and um, p… please just ignore the stammer it’s… I’m not nervous.” This was true, to a degree. She wasn’t more nervous than her usual base level.

“On the subject of training,” she went on, “I um, I need to consider all the angles that the Ensign gave to me and that could be affecting the incident. I’m guessing that all new appointees to Tactical here are given adequate training on Starbase systems? Shown what… what you just showed me?”

Alexander gave her a steady yet serious nod. His expression turned more thoughtful, and he stared off above her head while he thought. “Yes, all tactical officers, especially those assigned to weapons control receive a vigorous and thorough training program on both vessel and station protocols. We drill them on everything, but targeting restrictions and and safeguards and specifically emphasized to prevent these types of incidents.” He paused, and gave Luna a sincere look. “There is no way a trained officer that is sound of mind could commit a mistake like that, unless it was entirely intentional.”

He crossed his arms, examining the implications of the situation. “If Rees says this was a mistake, he’s either entirely incompetent, or lying. Given his access to the systems and a weapons control clearance, and based on what you told me, I’d go with the latter.” He frowned. “Regardless, we’ll have to have a word with his training officer as well, if this was done on Bravo.”

“I don’t envy your job, Counselor. What’s your next move?”

Luna wrinkled her nose in consideration, her eyes scanning the line of consoles, making up her mind on something. When she looked back to Alexander she seemed a little more calm, her decision cemented.

“Now um, well, now I finish and submit my evaluation. It’s not… I’m not the one who decides what happens, evidence and stuff, that’ll be… JAG maybe? One of the flag officers? I um, I do speak about his state of mind, which they’ll take into consideration when they’re deciding what to do.” In her head Luna knew this was Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Her theory was that, taken from the Academy, a place of notoriety where he had had one-on-one attention and rewards of recognition for achievement, Rees had been placed into one of anonymity and mediocrity in the lower decks of Starbase Bravo and his inflated sense of self hadn’t been able to take it. Whether through anger at not being recognised for the legend he thought he was or a simple cry for attention, believing he could stave off any trouble with the mistaken assurance in his own superiority of intellect she wasn’t sure and would probably never know. Narcissists rarely admitted anything, especially a problem with themselves. They also rarely sought help, or changed. Luna knew that fact alone and subsequently the fact she had to include this information in her evaluation meant the Ensign’s time in Starfleet was probably done.

“I um…” she continued, “I can’t discuss any diagnosis with you, or what he said to me in sessions. But this has b… been very helpful. Thank you. I know what I’ll write now.”