Compulsory Counseling

Posted on 05/21/2020 @ 11:00pm by Lieutenant JG S'Lace

Mission: S1E3: Visit to Starbase 375
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: Day 1 at 0800

It should have been simple. A desk was a desk and a chair, a chair. All the same, S'Lace sat before he new desk in her new chair and it felt...off. Unsettling. Up until that point the issue of being the ship's new Chief Medical Officer had not one that overly concerned her because she had been to preoccupied with her duties to give it much thought.

But now that she had a spare moment to sit and think...

She gave an almost inaudible sigh and adjusted the seat for the third time, and she wondered if she should put something on the desk. No...She turned and regarded the empty wall behind her. Yes, she thought. She had just the image in mind...

Behind her, the door to S'Lace's office opened, permitting in the Chief Counselor, who looked past her at the empty wall. He assumed she heard him come in. He had no appointment, but they needed to speak, and with her office door being unlocked as she stared at a wall, now seemed as good a time as any to talk with her.

"What are we looking at?" he asked.

"A blank wall," S'Lace noted without turning. She paused and added, "Or were you inquiring what I thought I should put on the wall?"

She turned and regarded the man, she said, "You are the ship's counselor," she glanced past him towards the open door.

“I am,” he answered with a smile. “Counselor Toran Ilos. And the way you were staring, I assumed either you were imagining what you might put on the wall, or there was something there I couldn’t see.” His smile grew wider at the little joke. “How are you settling in?”

S'Lace considered reducing her responses to single syllable words but even at her most immature that seemed beneath her. She replied, "The staff have proven to be quite adaptable and are efficient." she settled her elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled her fingers before her, "I am assuming your arrival means you have read my file."

"I have," he admitted as he took a seat. "You've had quite the life, Doctor. You've suffered lower lows than most."

S'Lace allowed the smallest of shrugs, "Considering the fate of a majority of the Maquis I would consider myself fortunate that Starfleet...intervened when it did. Was there anything in particular that concerns you?"

“‘Concern’ is the wrong word,” he answered. “But surely you would agree that with the various tragedies of your past, it is prudent to keep your mental health in check as a priority? You have lost much, suffered much, and in your time with the Maquis you acted with the abandon of one who had nothing more to lose. You will not be offended by my wanting to...not keep an eye, but check in every now and then.”

"I am quite used to it," S'Lace murmured, "I will concede that compared to past counselors I have had to...interact with, you seem less unpleasant than most. If by 'every now and then' will there be a fixed schedule or will your intrusions into my life be entirely at random?"

Ilos smiled. Why do I get the feeling that's the nicest thing she'll ever say to me? he wondered. "Perhaps a fusion of both? Weekly thirty-minute sessions, to be reduced to fortnightly at my discretion, and I may just pop by now and then to see how you're doing?"

"That will be tolerable," S'Lace replied after a pause. Truthfully it was better than she was expecting. As a condition for returning to Starfleet she had to submit to greater than normal scrutiny from counselors. And the occasional security audit. Especially when there was some political flair up in or around Cardassian space. She wondered if the likes of Torres or Chakotay suffered similar inquiries. She asked, "May we consider this visit this week's meeting, then?"

"We may," he replied. "And they don't need to be long. You've been in Starfleet for a decade, this second career of it, I mean. Why do you suppose Starfleet continues to insist that you have such meetings with Counselors?"

S'Lace frowned, "I am not quite certain if that was a rhetorical question or you are simply ignorant in regards to the details of my personnel file. Starfleet Medical has me on what I believe humans like to call a 'short leash' because as a member of the Maquis I killed forty four Cardassians, Counselor. Phasers, disruptors, knives strangulation, bare hands, I committed numerous atrocities. I was insane at the time but I still remember ever murder, every atrocity. A Vulcan doctor named Straal visited me in the prison camp and conducted a mind meld in an attempt to restore my sanity; it worked but he attempted to commit suicide by choking on his own tongue, it took a mind meld from another Vulcan to restore him. That Vulcan in turn tried to kill them self. The only reason I am free, the only reason Starfleet even considered taking me back was due to my 'heroic' actions during the Dominion War."

"I'm aware of your file, Doctor," Ilos replied. "I didn't ask why they put you on a short leash then. I asked why you think they're insistent on keeping you on a short leash now."

"I..." S'Lace was not the sort who found herself at a loss for words. But the counselor's query brought her up short. She had not considered such a question and...

"I...assumed they were simply concerned about whether or not I would pose a risk to anyone," she replied, "Are you...implying another motive?"

“No,” he answered. “But maybe they’re acting out of too much caution. I’m duty bound to start with their recommendations, but it is within my power to re-evaluate. Just know that I’m approaching this with an open mind. If I assess that you don’t need this the way they think you do, then we’ll begin scaling them back.”

"That...seems reasonable," S'Lace conceded. "If you wish you may schedule me at your convenience. I may rearrange my schedule to compensate."

"Thank you," Ilos said with a smile and polite nod. "I'll leave you be for now, but my assistant will contact yours to put us in each other's calendars." He stood from the seat.

As he left, he turned back and looked at the back wall. "As for your wall, you should consider putting something on that it that reminds you of the good times. That makes you recall pleasant memories. And as importantly, something that marks this office not as a sterile work environment, but as yours. Good day, Doctor S'Lace."

S'Lace was quiet and still a few moments after the counselor left. She had been analyzed so often by them she supposed she dismissed much of what they said out of hand. It was illogical behavior she knew. However...

She turned in her seat and regarded the blank wall, memories of a bitterly cold day in Chicago sprang to mind, and the refuge she took in a museum.

Perhaps, she reluctantly thought about one painting in particular, time with this counselor might not be entirely wasted...


Lieutenant j.g. Toran Ilos
Chief Counselor, USS Crazy Horse

Lieutenant j.g. S'Lace
Chief Medical Officer, USS Crazy Horse