“I’ve never been shot at before.” Lieutenant Hazel Wallaker sat on a couch across from Lieutenant Jordan Reid. Three days ago, the chief science officer had been shot by a blaster at high stun. The initial recovery had been swift, and she had been back on her feet within hours. Reid had not cleared her for duty, insisting on having several counseling sessions. Hazel muttered, “Never mind being shot.”

Jordan made some notes in her PADD. Wallaker had been progressing well. When they had started talking in the hours after the incident, she had been coming out of wide-eyed shock. The soreness remained, and Hazel had initially shrugged off painkillers. That had changed a day after, and they had begun a light physical therapy schedule to pair her recovery with physical activity. Reid suggested, “It can feel like you are not the same after it…like things won’t return to normal.”

Hazel’s eyes widened in recognition, “Yes! I don’t feel like me…or the old me, I guess. When I opened my eyes, I was angry…furious. I had been…betrayed somehow. It sounds silly, but I trusted people…even the worst kind, to not shoot me out of nowhere.” She turned to stare at the bland carpet, “It’s going to be hard to give the benefit of the doubt anymore.”

Reid felt a part of her in the young woman’s words. Ambrose Harris had been cut down by a Devore Imperium officer out of sheer malice and vengeance. It had given her pause about serving in Starfleet. She had walked away to find herself with Harris Transport. And yet, here she sat. “I’ve been there, Hazel.” She related her own story, sharing each detail with care. “I wasn’t sure either. To be honest, there are days I’m still not sure.”

The science chief asked, “Then…you keep doing it…why?”

Reid felt as if the woman was dancing on the edge of heartbreak and hope. “Because as important as it is to sit in those moments…to feel…it’s just as important to eventually pick yourself up and keep moving. You know the lessons from when we were kids – one of the definitions of life is movement.”

Hazel tore her eyes from the carpet and met Jordan’s, “Is there a time limit on how long I can sit in my feelings?” She clasped her hands together tightly, feeling conflicted.

“Yes…and no. I think you know there’s a limit to everything. Your feelings may settle, but the memory of this…it will come back. We’ll need to work on preparing for that as best as we can. You have a long career ahead of you, Hazel. This thing…doesn’t define you.”

“So it’ll come back…these feelings?”

“Yes…but you’ll know how to defend and protect yourself this time. I’ll help you.”Hazel’s eyes returned to the carpet, “They tell you about this in the academy. You don’t believe them, at least the way you should.” She pulled herself up on the edge of the couch, sitting up straight. She took a deep breath, as if loading up her feelings, and then exhaled a long breath, her body relaxing just enough. “Then let’s do this, Doctor Reid. I want to be ready.”