=/\=Green Sky, Red Heart – Act VII=/\=
*USS Brawley – Counselor Zaa’s Office*

The door to Lt. Ikastrul Zaa’s office opened with a gentle hiss. Commander Marlon Smythe stepped through with his shoulders squared and his expression unreadable. Lighting inside was dimmed to a comfortable glow. It cast a soft warmth over the room’s earth-toned furnishings. The counselor smiled across the table as she greeted him. Her posture was relaxed and attentive. A steaming cup of tea rested on the small table beside her. Its delicate aroma drifted toward the entrance.

She’d just finished a difficult session with Captain Raku. His grief remained tightly coiled beneath a composed exterior. Twenty-two souls had been lost in the initial attack. The weight of that number still hung in the air like smoke.

“Commander,” she said gently as she rose. “Thank you for coming.”

He gave a respectful nod but didn’t speak. His thoughts were guarded. Not silent, but dulled like white noise. She sensed his effort to try hiding them. He focused on one thing, likely some technical procedure for resisting telepaths by not projecting too loudly. That alone told her everything she needed to know about him.

“Please, sit.” She gestured toward the chair opposite her. “I asked to meet because I believe everyone in Command deserves support right now. You’ve been through more than you’re letting on.”

He hesitated before slowly sitting down. His hands rested on his thighs. Long fingers curled lightly as if resisting the urge to fidget. His eyes met hers, but it felt forced.

“I understand this isn’t easy,” Lt. Zaa continued in her soft, melodic voice. “You spent twenty hours planetside after the attack. That’s a long time to process trauma.. especially alone.”

His jaw shifted. “I wasn’t alone. There were others on the surface.”

“But you were the ranking officer. That’s its own kind of isolation.” She paused. “How are you feeling, Commander?”

He was quiet for several moments. “I keep thinking I should have been on the ship,” he finally replied hesitantly. “That I should’ve done something differently. Maybe we wouldn’t have lost so many.”

She felt the tremor ripple beneath the surface of his words. Guilt. Anxiety. But that wasn’t all. His sadness had been there even prior to the invasion. She felt a flickering connection to his thoughts soon after he left for the surface, hours before the Vaadwaur arrived. She remembered tuning to him unintentionally, as his discomfort brushed against her mind like cold mist.

Now that ache was buried under the heavier weight of loss. Yet still it pulsed.

“You did everything you could,” Ikastrul said as she reached for a datapad. “There’s a difference between feeling responsible and being responsible. Guilt doesn’t always mean failure.”

“I know,” Smythe said quickly. The way he said it made it clear he didn’t fully believe the words.

“You’ve taken care of others,” Ikastrul continued, “Command isn’t just about strength. It’s also about allowing yourself space to process. That’s what I’m here for. Not just for the crew, but for you and the Captain too.” She leaned back slightly, studying the lines of his face. He wasn’t shielding himself as tightly now. There was something raw and exposed.

“Counseling can be tedious,” she said with a soft chuckle, “I know not everyone loves these formal appointments. So, if it’s easier… I’d be happy to meet more casually. A cup of replicated tea? Just to talk. No reports, no recordings.”

The Commander’s reaction was immediate. Not outwardly, but internally from deep within him. She felt it like a ripple of nervous energy suddenly replacing gray static.. Curious excitement, but cautious. It was an oddly sweet sensation. A flicker of something pulled at her in return.

She had to remind herself to remain professional. Still, she smiled.

Marlon glanced up at her. “That sounds… doable,” he said matter of factly. He didn’t want to get his hopes up about anything more than professional interactions. He began to wonder about the true nature of her interest. He always had doubts around women he looked up to as much as Counselor Zaa.

The moment hung between them. No time was set. No details had been planned. Commander Smythe rose suddenly, as if realizing he’d stayed too long. Worries about possibly dating someone under his command had finally gotten to him.

“I’ll let you know,” he said quickly as he adjusted his uniform. “About the tea.”

Ikastrul stood as well, watching him with the same warmth she had when he entered. “I’ll look forward to it,” she replied demurely.

He nodded again before turning to leave. The door hissed shut behind his exit.

Chief Counselor Zaa stood in the quiet that followed. Her arms folded loosely across her waist. His sadness seemed to be gone, at least for now. It was replaced by that fluttering uncertainty he tried so hard to hide.

She smiled softly to herself. She didn’t want to date him. She wasn’t even sure what this feeling was. There was just something in the way he avoided her gaze. She noticed him getting up to stand several times when the Captain wasn’t sitting between them on the bridge. She could never talk to him for more than three minutes. They were like two dueling magnets, with her presence seeming to drive him away.

He never seemed to let his thoughts slip toward her. There were no signs of attraction or secret longing… Only quiet, anxious respect. That only made him more intriguing.

Ikastrul hadn’t expected feelings to start forming so soon, especially not for a Commander. She didn’t mind using her position to keep him close, though. She just wanted to understand him.

Perhaps it would never be more than that.

=/\=The morning after next…=/\=

The Observation Lounge was hushed and dim. It was lit mostly by the eerie green cast of Vaabanth IV through the viewport. The planet hovered beyond the glass like a brooding giant. Thick, dark clouds barely shifted across its surface. At this hour of 1000 sharp, the lounge was nearly empty. A single booth nestled behind a structural beam offered a degree of privacy not often found on the Brawley.

Lt. Ikastrul Zaa waited there. Her slender hands curled around a ceramic mug of Uttaberry tea. Steam lifted in quiet threads from the violet herbal blend inside. Long sandy brown hair was tucked back in a braided coil that ran down her elegant shoulders. She wore her duty uniform slightly unzipped at the neck, more relaxed than formal.

She looked up before Commander Smythe even rounded the beam. The Lieutenant sensed him approaching with his mind guarded like always.

“Commander,” she greeted gently.

“Lieutenant,” he said with a nod as he slipped into the seat across from her.

His stance was proper, hands folded loosely on the table. The expression he wore was neutral and practiced. Through his tight mental discipline, she could feel the faint tremor of nervous energy humming underneath. She realized how tightly wound he truly was.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet,” she said, voice low and warm. “It’s quieter in here this time of day. Less distraction.”

“Appreciate that,” he replied, glancing once toward the window. “Can’t say I expected Vaabanth IV to be so… Stunning.” His eyes returned to the Counselor’s.

“It’s beautiful in its own way,” Lt. Zaa replied. “Though… not exactly inviting.”

He gave a faint smile. That was progress.

She let a moment pass before tilting her head. Her tone shifted slightly. “I wanted to ask about your background. Not just what’s in the file. Your family.. Growing up.. What shaped you?”

His brow rose slightly, but he didn’t object. He spoke after a pause in thought. “Born near Seattle. Earth. But I didn’t stay long. Both of my parents were Starfleet. Dad eventually made Captain. My mother was with Avalon Fleet Yards. I spent more time on starships than on land.”

“You grew up in motion.” Ikastrul smiled and leaned forward.

“That’s one way to put it.” Marlon leaned towards her and smirked.

She turned to study the planet. “My family ran Betazoid trade vessels. It wasn’t the same scale as Starfleet. The rhythm was probably similar though. Constant travel, cramped quarters. I used to get in trouble for wandering into the cargo bays.”

His expression softened as they shared a laugh. She felt surprise flicker through his mental field, then settle. “I haven’t met many Betazoids who weren’t born planetside.”

“I wasn’t,” she said. “I learned to walk between deck plates.”

That drew a small chuckle from him.

“Did you always want command?” she asked next. “Or was it just… inertia?”

His gaze dropped slightly. “I don’t know. There was always pressure. Expectations. It felt like the default path. And I was good at it. Still am, I think. But lately… I’ve been wondering if I ever chose it.”

Zaa didn’t respond immediately. She let the words linger. Her focus was steady on him even as his mind curled protectively around the admission.

“You’ve been carrying a lot,” she said gently. “Since the attack. Twenty-two losses… It’s not something anyone can compartmentalize.”

“I tried,” he murmured. “I spent all those hours on the surface after the assault. Just kept thinking about the bridge. Maybe it would’ve gone differently if I was there.”

“Or maybe not,” she said. “You didn’t cause it, Commander.”

“No,” he admitted. “But I didn’t stop it either.”

She leaned forward slightly, voice soft. “You’re not mourning just the losses. You’re mourning something in yourself. I sensed it before the attack. Even at the wedding. There was sadness in you. Something separate from duty.”

He looked away. She didn’t press further. Her gaze was still searching. Something about that made Marlon nervous. He didn’t try to hide his thoughts this time. She sensed some of his sadness was around something lacking from his personal life.

Counselor Zaa offered a small path forward. “I know formal sessions can feel rigid. I’d like to keep meeting though.” Her eyes warmed. Hints of red crept across her cheeks. “Not for regulation. Just tea. Talking. And not always about trauma.”

His gaze met hers. She felt a brief pulse of warmth, followed by a spike of anxiety he tried to flatten.

Commander Smythe nodded and tried to sound casual. “I’d like that,” he added.

Before she could say more, her commbadge chirped.

“Captain Raku to Lieutenant Zaa, Counselor assistance required in Crew Quarters Delta-Seven. Medical priority.”

Her body tensed reflexively as she tapped her badge. “Acknowledged, Captain. On my way.” She stood quickly, glancing back as she turned.

Commander Smythe was already rising too. The tone had shifted. “I’ll follow up with the situation later,” he said as he took one last look into her ebony irises.

Ikastrul paused momentarily. There was hunger in her voice as she spoke. “Please do.”

Then she was gone. The sounds of her boots faded into the corridor beyond. Marlon remained at the table alone. The Counselor’s half-finished tea sat in front of him, reflecting the verdant light of the terraformer’s rejuvenating atmospheric gas clouds outside.