“How are you feeling?” The woman’s voice was soft and filled with genuine concern as she leaned forward slightly in her chair, her eyes studying Jazara’s face for any subtle signs of emotion.

Jazara hesitated, her brows furrowing as she sought the right words. Her fingers, nervous and restless, played with the edge of her uniform. “I don’t know,” she began slowly, her voice quivering with uncertainty. Her gaze seemed to be searching for something intangible as if trying to grasp the elusive fragments of her emotions.

A faint, empathetic smile graced the woman’s lips. “It’s okay,” she said gently, her tone a soothing balm for Jazara’s inner turmoil. “Healing takes time, and it’s perfectly normal to have mixed feelings.”

Jazara nodded, the weight of recent events evident in the lines etched onto her weary face. “I just don’t want to go through it again,” she admitted, her voice carrying the raw vulnerability of her fears.

The woman leaned closer, her eyes locked onto Jazara’s, their depths radiating empathy. “I understand,” she murmured. “But remember the words of the writer from the 21st century, Judy Blume…”

After a meaningful pause, she continued, her voice carrying a sense of wisdom, “Each of us must confront our own fears, must come face to face with them. How we handle our fears will determine where we go with the rest of our lives. To experience adventure or to be limited by the fear of it.”

Jazara swallowed hard, her fear still palpable. “But I can’t just charge headlong into danger, like facing a Borg cube. It’s like… inviting suicide,” she stammered, her confession laced with trepidation.

The woman’s gaze remained unwavering, her tone calm and reassuring. “I understand your fear,” she said gently. “But addressing it doesn’t mean acting recklessly. It means acknowledging it, understanding it, and finding a safe, calculated way to overcome it.”

Relief and gratitude washed over Jazara’s face as she replied, her voice filled with emotion, “I… I would appreciate that.”

With a gentle yet determined demeanor, the woman continued, “Remember, fear is a natural response to trauma and challenging experiences. It’s a signal that something needs attention. By facing these emotions and discussing them, we can begin the journey toward healing and resolution.”

Jazara nodded, her tense shoulders gradually releasing their grip of anxiety, as if allowing the weight to slowly slide away.

“But I want to help you find the path to healing, to a life free from the grip of fear and trauma,” the woman reassured. “Let’s continue working through these emotions, one step at a time.”

Jazara’s voice quivered slightly as she asked, “So, what’s the first step?”

The woman’s gaze remained steady on Jazara, her voice measured and compassionate. “It appears your recent trauma was triggered by seeing Lieutenant Junior Grade Eileen Piper,” she observed, her words carefully chosen. “Could it be that your deepest fear revolves around the idea that you were used as a weapon by the Borg, resulting in the loss of one or more of her friends, your crew?”

Jazara’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she considered the question, her voice barely above a whisper. “It might be,” she admitted, her vulnerability laid bare.

The woman fell into contemplative silence, her unwavering gaze a testament to her thoughtful consideration. It was as though she was carefully weighing various scenarios. Then, she began to speak, “There are several approaches we can consider,” she finally offered. “One option is to encourage you to have a conversation with her; often, exposure can be the most effective therapy.”

Pausing momentarily, she continued with a calm and measured tone, “Alternatively, we could create a holographic simulation of Lieutenant Piper or another crew member from the USS Tasman.”

After another momentary pause, she added, “There’s also the possibility of collaborating with Dr. Suvak and exploring the option of a mind meld to alleviate your suffering.”

“I-I don’t know,” Jazara’s voice wavered, her fingers nervously twining together on her lap. Her eyes, filled with uncertainty, darted around the room, avoiding direct contact. She was lost in the depths of her emotions, grappling with the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

The woman leaned closer, her expression a picture of empathetic understanding. “How about this,” she suggested, her voice gentle and reassuring. “I want you to return to your duties on the bridge. Take some time to mull it over, and we can explore your thoughts further in our next session.”

Jazara’s nod was hesitant, and her gaze gradually lifted to meet the woman’s, the uncertainty in her eyes slowly giving way to a glimmer of hope.

“Good, then. That concludes our session for today. If you wouldn’t mind ushering in my next patient?” The woman’s sudden unwavering demeanor felt almost programmed.

“I will, thank you,” Jazara replied, her footsteps echoing softly as she approached the exit, each step carrying the weight of her emotions.

“Jazara, just one more thing,” the woman’s tone shifted, carrying a touch of significance.

Jazara turned back, her curiosity piqued, her eyes locking onto the woman’s with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability.

The woman’s gaze, deep and penetrating, remained steady as she spoke with heartfelt sincerity, “Jazara, I genuinely wish you the best of luck.” Her words bore the profound weight of encouragement and hope, leaving Jazara with a newfound sense of reassurance. 

As a hint of relief lightened the weight in her chest, Jazara allowed her gaze to linger on the woman for a moment longer. With a measured breath, she softly spoke, “Computer, End Program.”

In response to her command, the holodeck obeyed, and like an ethereal mirage, the woman and the tranquil environment vanished into thin air. All that remained were the stark, obsidian walls of the holodeck, illuminated only by the familiar yellow grid that had defined the boundaries of the woman’s reality.

As Jazara emerged from the holodeck, her footsteps echoed softly in the corridor. Her gaze remained fixed on the cold, metallic floor beneath her feet, her mind still entangled in a web of thoughts, unraveling the emotional labyrinth she had navigated during the simulated therapy session. Each step she took seemed measured as if she were carefully treading through the remnants of her own inner turmoil.

Yet, just three steps beyond the holodeck’s threshold, her world took an unexpected turn. Her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of a pair of standard-issue boots directly in her path. Her eyes instinctively traced their outline, following the familiar lines of Starfleet trousers, ascending to the shoulders adorned with red insignia. A cascade of blonde hair framed the figure before her, and as her gaze continued its ascent, it met the unmistakable blue eyes of Eileen.

In that fleeting moment, Jazara’s heart skipped a beat. A surge of surprise and panic coursed through her, momentarily freezing her in her tracks. Her pulse quickened, and she felt a rush of conflicting emotions. However, before the panic could fully take hold, Eileen’s warm and inviting smile broke through the initial shock. It was a smile that radiated familiarity, like a beacon of reassurance amidst the turbulent sea of her thoughts.

“So you’re using the holo-counselor too? It’s a great alternative, isn’t it?” Eileen’s words were casual, her tone carrying a sense of camaraderie and understanding.

Jazara managed a hesitant nod, her lips curving into a faint, somewhat awkward smile. The tension that had gripped her began to loosen its hold.

Eileen’s blue eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity as she continued the conversation. “How have you been holding up? Haven’t seen you since your incident at the bridge,” she inquired, her voice laced with concern.

“I-I’m doing better,” Jazara admitted, her voice revealing a vulnerability that she hadn’t shared with many. “I just discussed picking up my shifts again.”

A warm undercurrent of empathy flowed through Eileen’s response. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.” She paused briefly, her eyes reflecting a sincere desire to connect. Then, she ventured, “Hey, how about we meet up for a drink after I’m finished? I guess we both have a lot to talk about.”

Jazara considered the offer, her apprehension gradually yielding to a sense of connection and understanding. The genuine concern in Eileen’s eyes acted as a soothing balm to her still-raw emotions. “That sounds… nice,” she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude and the promise of shared conversation and support.