A workbee pulling a cargo train chugged past Arcturus as maintenance pods, shuttles, and DOTs flitted around the massive starship, which was nearing the end of a three-week refit and resupply at Starbase Four. Counselor Kora Sharma watched it with a smile, not because she was particularly interested in speculating on what it might be carrying or the mechanics of such a small pod pulling so much cargo, but because she hadn’t had an office with a window in nearly twenty years, not since she’d started out during the Dominion War aboard Starbase 471. On the three other ships she’d served on after that, viewports had been too much of a scarce commodity not to keep reserved for crew quarters, but this new posting was a horse of an entirely different color. 

Though just over a year old, Arcturus was undergoing preemptive physical maintenance. Her crew had similarly been given three weeks of shore leave down on the paradise that was Mellstoxx III. For all of the Fourth Fleet, 2399 and the first few months of 2400 had been trying on ships and organics alike. While it wasn’t Risa, it was hard to beat a vacation on a Betazoid colony. Sharma had taken in enough of the sights in the few days she’d been granted as a layover between her assignment on Artemis and her new posting but had otherwise dived right into getting situated.

Getting familiar with the dossiers and mental health records of the ship’s senior staff was easy enough. Still, she found the prospect of serving a crew of 2,500 daunting, even with a team of twenty-four counselors and another dozen support staff working under her. She was still grappling with managing a staff, as she’d had at most two or three colleagues on her other ships. That staffing level kept caseloads at “just” 100 so that every crew member would be seen at least once a month for regular therapy and evaluation. However, she still felt she needed to be familiar with the entire crew herself.

Just as the workbee passed out of her field of vision, the door chime sounded. 

“Enter,” she said, turning around.

The doors to her office were wider than usual and fitted with transparent panels, which let her keep an eye on the reception area. They opened to reveal a tall Human wearing Starfleet-issue workout apparel, ARCTU emblazoned on the chest of his tank-top. She recognized him immediately from her study of her own staff’s files, Lieutenant Commander Austin Carver. As the assistant chief counselor, he’d likely have considered himself next in line for the position she now held. Navigating the next steps was likely to be tricky for both of them.

“Austin. I didn’t realize you were back on board yet,” Sharma said, offering him a bright smile and stepping around her desk. “I’ve heard so many good things about you.”

Several of her new staff had already mentioned Carver’s bright personality and popularity without prompting. He also had a medical degree, was a qualified psychiatrist, and had become certified in physical training and kinesiology in his spare time. By all accounts, he was impressive, just like everyone else aboard the Arcturus. His impressiveness seemed to stem from broad preparation and interests rather than any sort of laser focus, though, and Sharma had to imagine it was part of why he hadn’t advanced to full commander yet. 

“Likewise,” the young man said, returning her smile. “I just got back from the planet. I’m leading a group fitness session in twenty minutes, but I thought I’d stop by to introduce myself,” he explained.

“No rest for the wicked,” Sharma observed. “Please, sit,” she added, gesturing to the sofa in front of her desk as she took a seat in the armchair opposite it. 

Carver looked hesitant for a brief moment before he smiled again and sat down. He was on the very edge of his seat, looking like he was ready to spring up and sprint out of the room. He kept his legs spread relatively wide as if he was avoiding seeming small—ironic given that he was nearly two meters tall and probably a hundred kilos of pure muscle. Every bit of his posture and behavior signaled to Sharma that he was insecure and wanted to project an image of strength. 

“From all accounts, shore leave was well-deserved for everyone. I hope you managed to take some actual time off,” Sharma noted.

Carver nodded. “Matthew and I went camping for a few days, and then we stayed with Luca and Michael at their new house,” he explained. “Err, Captain Lancaster and Dr. Sheppard.”

Sharma was utterly unable to discern whether that particular name drop was done consciously or not, but the fact that Carver was close to the Captain was worth noting. It must have made him not getting the role she now found herself in even harder for Carver.

“Matthew…?” she asked, skirting the issue.

“Belvedere. We’re… something. Dating, I guess?” he replied.

“Is that a positive ambiguity or a negative one?” she asked.

The young man chuckled. “Positive, more or less. I don’t know if either of us is the right or perfect person for the other, but we enjoy spending time together and also find value in time apart,” he explained. 

Carver’s gaze was fixed on something past Sharma’s ear, likely one of the paintings she’d had the computer produce to liven up the space. Sharma made a mental note to look up Belvedere later.

“Well, I think ‘mostly positive’ is hard enough to achieve in this universe, so it’s something worth having,” she offered, smiling. 

“I think so, too.”

The counselor reached for a PADD that she had strategically stashed between the cushion of her chair and the arm. She pulled up Carver’s duty file with a few taps, which listed all of his clients and his other activities.

“So, besides seeing thirty clients a week and managing the duty roster for the department, you’re also leading a group fitness class and a mindfulness yoga group,” Sharma noted. “That’s a lot.”

Carver shrugged. “I don’t do well with idle time,” he explained.

“I can see that,” Sharma replied, drumming her fingers on the PADD for a moment. “I’ll never stop you from taking on projects that you’re passionate about, and I know that fitness is an important part of your personal life and integrated deeply into your counseling praxis.”

“But,” Carver offered.

Sharma chuckled. “But, I’m fully aware that someone in your position needs to be encouraged and supported to realize their career goals,” she offered. “I can’t imagine you would have said ‘no’ if you had been offered this position, right?”

Carver shook his head.

“Well, I don’t want you to see me as in any way being a barrier to your advancement, just because I happen to be above you, for now,” she continued. “Which is a long way of saying that I’m going to push you to focus, Austin. You’re a doctor, a counselor, and a physical trainer. That’s all been proven. Now, the next goal is that third pip,” she added, though neither of them was actually wearing a duty uniform.

“I can’t say this is how I imagined this meeting going,” Carver replied, narrowing his eyes for a moment. He let his posture release for the first time, reclining and putting his arms on the entire length of the back of the sofa. “I don’t resent you if that’s what you’re saying.”

Sharma laughed. “Well, I think we’re both good enough observers of Human behavior to know that we don’t always hold those things in our conscious mind. This is the largest staff I’ve ever had, and I need the person working next to me to know that I’m on his side.”

“Even if you think I’m easily distracted by shiny objects and pet projects,” Carver replied, his voice teasing but with a slight glint in his eye that suggested a hint of truth.

“Even then, yes,” she replied.

“Fair enough,” Carver said, his leg bouncing for a few moments. “The captain put us together for a reason—he doesn’t do anything without gaming it out a hundred moves in advance—so I’m happy to see where it goes.”

Sharma nodded. “Good. We’re on the same page then. You better get to your class,” she said.

Carver stood up.

“Does this time work for you every week, or shall I have the computer check the duty roster?” Sharma asked, also standing and going towards her desk. “Well, since you make the duty roster, I’m sure you can pencil yourself in around this hour?”

Carver cleared his throat. “Uh, sure. We have our staff meetings on Wednesdays usually, but… But that’s not what you meant,” he said, the realization coming to him mid-sentence.

“Even counselors need counseling, Austin,” Sharma confirmed.

The young man nodded and left the room, not voicing whatever concerns or thoughts he may have had about that. However, what Sharma wasn’t sure about was who would be counseling whom in the long run. She could see much potential in Carver—someone who needed to focus his boundless energy finally and for once—both as a complement to her more reserved, traditionalist approach to therapy and as someone who might be able to help her question her assumptions about the job. The chance would be a fine thing, though, to get her in front of an aerobics class in a leotard.