[Chief Counselor’s Office – USS Denver]

Sitting down upon a firm, yet still comfortable couch Emimi Qetax wanted to stretch out her legs but thought better of it. True, there was nobody watching but one had to be presentable at all times as a member of Starfleet. She, or rather the Qetax symbiot, was still adjusting to this level of formality even after so many years joined. Half a century in academic life had created certain expectations from their last life that continued to carry over even now that together they had passed Starfleet Academy and were now a full lieutenant.

Rising the newly promoted Chief Counselor adjusted her uniform. She knew that some other ship’s counselors prefered to wear civilian attiare once they reached the head of department level. It was, they would argue, about eliminating the signs of rank between them and their patients so that a Lieutenant Commander did not feel bad taking advice from a lowly Lieutenant. Though sympathetic to that view, and she could understand it Qetax felt that she was also an officer and worthy of the same respect that anyone on the USS Denver was given. She was not a civilian brought aboard to offer her services and while there was nothing wrong with that she had done the work of becoming an officer. 

Going to the replicator in her office, Emimi got a milk coffee (hot) to drink. She sat back down and savored the human drink. Sure there were Klingon coffees that she’d liked, and the Andorians had one that Qetax had loved in their previous life but Emimi had gotten addicted to the human variation during her Academy years of intense study on Earth. There was nothing better to give yourself a little bit of a kick in the back of the pants.

As she drank she reviewed her next appointment. An Ensign with some anxiety about space travel, it was not an unusual case. One did not realize just how many cadets did not actually think too hard about the space travel aspect of living on a starship until assigned to one. Many young men (and women) found themselves suddenly having to look out the window every day on new stars and found that disconcerting after a lifetime of stability and living in one or two places. 

This was also something that Emimi got, or at least was sympathetic too. She had wanted adventure, but that was not what her life had been about up until Starfleet and the war. Now what had meant to be a challenging and fun exploration of the galaxy was instead an all out battle. She had gone from a Counselor in a time of peace to one during war. She had to tell people how it was okay to kill other people, rather than dealing mostly with Ensigns who did not like the fact that the stars kept changing. 

One joined Starfleet and found that the mission had changed on them.

Finishing up the coffee she put it away as the Ensign came in. They sat for about fifty minutes and spoke, and Emimi Qetax did point out that things changed, including stars. This did not convince the man to be okay with it, but he seemed to understand that unpredictability of life and after getting a few relaxation tips they agreed on a time to meet next week. The next three appointments went approximately the same, no resolution because of real problems there was very rarely a sudden and dramatic moment where you solved it or cured it, but small progress and another meeting booked. 

Baby steps.

When the docked of today’s appointments was over it was time for Emimi to celebrate with another coffee and this time a sandwich of some kind of fish. It was not the best, but it would fill the void that had opened up in her stomach for a few hours until a proper dinner. Next door in the Junior Counselor’s quarters his appointment with a tall Andorian was finishing up and then Qetax entered, and chatted briefly with her junior. Most ships did not have large Counseling Departments so she was the Chief of a team of two. It was more than some ships, but certainly not enough for a population this size.

[Lounge & Quarters]

After catching up she returned to her office. Emimi then closed it up and went to the lounge to enjoy a synthalhol and dinner. A tase for Andorian ice worm that she’d picking up from Qetax on joining, and enjoyed a plate of them now. It looked disgusting, she could even admit it as she shoveled them in her moth with prongs, but they were delicious.

Being a recent transfer to the USS Denver she had no close friends. This often happened, as people were loath to befriend a therapist. So she ate alone, her worm plate, and then finishing the last wriggling one, her drink and then off to her quarters. Emimi read a few articles that had come across the Academic Wire, keeping abreast in everything that was going on with therapy and then went to bed.