Part of USS Aquarius: New Beginnings

Analyze This!

MedBay
10/20/2400
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Lt. Dr. Rena Campbell was the newly-assigned counsellor on the USS Aquarius. Which was weird because she WAS an Aquarius. 

Must be fate. 

Not that Rena believed much in fate, but she certainly didn’t have other ideas. Anyway, it was time for the usual all-staff psych evals, as part of their fitness-for-duty regime. 

Her first patient would be the Captain. Oh. 

She set about readying her office-plumped the pillows on the settee she had placed against the back wall. Someday, she’d figure out how to get permission to paint it. Maybe a nice, healing dove grey or maybe seagrass green. Something calming. 

For now, her abstract art photos and cute cats she’d downloaded and printed would have to do. She smoothed a fresh sheet of paper out on her desk-for a note later, after the session, in case there was something to note. She preferred talk therapy, but unlike her mentors, she embraced more modern technology, like, you know, recording devices and holograms. She wouldn’t use one today-at her first sessions with a new patient, she found them cumbersome and maybe a little invasive. 

She wanted to project an air of calm trust. 

She pushed her glasses back up her nose-she had been reading the woman’s medical file-and then placed them carefully in the drawer. She only needed them to read or do other close up work. 

Finally, she stood, and smoothed the uniform she wore, and smiled. Opening the door, she peeked out, black nose and eyes visible before the rest of her body was. 

“Captain? I am ready for you, ma’am.” She stood at attention; she might be the “boss” in this office, but the Captain still outranked her, and she was new here. “Come in, sit down.” 

Rena opened the door fully, to let the other woman enter. The higher-ups often were a…interesting bunch to shrink. A mix of trauma and walls they’d put up-a lot to unpack. She was confident, though. “How are you today?”

Captain Vaelana strode into the room and went directly to sit across from the Counselor’s desk, without a word or hesitation. Her face was cold and devoid of emotion, a well practiced mask that if it were not for the prounced ridgelines on her forehead, could have made someone mistake the Romulan for her distant logical Vulcan cousins instead. 

”I am busy trying to integrate myself into my new command, Lieutenant.” Vaelana finally answered, somewhat tersely. “So if you are able to keep this required initial exam to a quick and efficient schedule, that would be most appreciated.”

Rena simply nodded. 

“Got it, ma’am. Please, sit down.” She waited for the woman to do so. “I guess we’ll just start without the niceties. As you know, Starfleet requires at least one evaluation per year. I read your file and think you’re fit for duty. What is your biggest reason to be here today, though? Anything besides that? A new mission can sometimes be daunting.”

“That depends entirely on what you mean by ‘here today’.” The Romulan replied, crossing her arms and leaning back in the chair. “In the Federation? Because my home was destroyed in a celestial apocalyptic disaster. In Starfleet? Because I betrayed some of my oaths to the dead husk of my former government in return for amnesty. On this ship?”

Vaelana let out a short sigh and straightened back up in her chair. “I am on this ship because Command is what I do best…and our superiors believe that this vessels current mission would benefit not just from my experience and knowledge, but also by the mere fact that I am the ‘token Romulan Commander’ that they have had in their back pocket for the past four standard solar cycles.”

“I meant to my office, but that is OK.” She’d forgotten the Romulan’s were bad with contextual clues and needed exact language. “All of that is helpful information.” She sipped some water, and then continued. “How does that make you feel, though? That you’re the, quote, ”token Romulan commander? Is that something you value? Is it something you hate?” Rena prodded, gently. 

“Hate is a strong word, and not one I would use so lightly…” The Captain replied. “…the concept makes sense in theory, and there are precious few other options for the role…Starfleet only just recently admitted it’s first Romulan Cadet to the Academy…however…it’s all optics…flash..politics…and I…dislike…the feeling that I my return to con and of a starship, may have come down to mere politics…an institution I have spent more than your human life time, avoiding like the Rigellian Blood Fever.”

Rena considered. She understood; half of her was Betazed, a people rife with political conflict and war, though not from within. “One of my mentors at the Academy was the first Vulcan counselor in the Fleet. He expressed similar. If I may be frank…I was born on a Starship, and I’ll likely die on one. It’s in my blood, and both of my parent’s races have been Federation members for at least a few decades-the Terrans, of course, much longer. I try to keep my own biases at the forefront when offering help, but…I think it’s important to note that the Federation is at least TRYING, right? Tiny steps forward are still forward steps. Personally, I think it’s stupid that your people weren’t admitted sooner-we have damned Cardassians there!-but of course, I don’t make those calls.” She was just a random lieutenant and while her father had been Starfleet before her, he was enlisted and probably faceless. “I think that’s worth something, don’t you?” She had her own issues with the fact that the Fleet had admitted Cardassians when they had attempted to annihilate her father’s people, but here they were. “I can help you to channel your-justified-anger to being a fantastic leader. Just tell me how to help you. If you want it.” Rena returned to her serene face again, sipping some tea while her words hung in the air, waiting for the other woman to speak. If Vaelana wasn’t game, that was fine. If she were, Rena would work hard to help.  

Vaelana narrowed her gaze at the young counselor…a half-betazed…and by all evidence, one who had just said the exact opposite of what Vaelana had needed to hear. The Romulan considered that either the counselor hadn’t utilized or didn’t possess, the betazed empathic or telepathic abilities…or Vaelana had just raised her own psionic defenses the moment she had entered the room without realizing it, a reflex born from years of Tal‘Shiar induced paranoia.

After a moment, she realized that there was also the chance that the counselor hadn’t simply been cleared yet to read her full dossier, uncensored…her own view on counselors was apparently still firmly in a Romulan mindset, where those with a counselor’s skill set were most likely Tal‘Shiar interrogators or Priests from religious minority sects, like the Qowat Milat.

”I will…consider it.” She said, finally, deciding to err on the side of humouring the counselor, instead of correcting her aggressively. “Though, I would like to think that I was already a decent commander in the field from my years of service commanding Reman assualt teams and issuing orders from the bridge of a warbird, before finding refuge for my crew and myself on this side of the Neutral Zone.”

Vaelana let out a small chuckle as a thought occurred to her. “Your mentor…was a Vulcan counselor? Really?”

”Back in the Galae Command…the Romulan Star Navy…I was sometimes called a ‘Surakhan.’…a Vulcan, a follower of Surak…due to my emotional distance and demeanor…” The Romulan captain recounted. “Keeping our emotions close to our chest is a enough trait in the military…but physiologically, we are still by and large a passionate people, with strong emotions that we are meant to use to propel us towards our goals.

“Like you, I am also shipborn…and it’s not just poetics that ascribe those who are shipborn in the late Star Empire, to descriptions of ‘cold as the blackness between the stars” Vaelana paused and let out a small sigh. “…There were few born under such circumstances in the past, even with the size of our fully integrated navy…prompt reporting and maternity leave to have the child born planetside was the norm…but my mother, on the other hand, did not have the luxury of doing so…and so, I grew up on various imperial warbids and stations for much of my youth. You’re surrounded by such discipline and structure, it permeates one’s young mind.” 

As well as Tal Shiar mental conditioning…thank you, Mother. Vaelana silently added before speaking once again. “It also leads one to play things close to the chest, chiefly, emotional responses.

Rena nodded. “He is. Still in the Fleet, though he strictly teaches and mentors now. He’s the one who encouraged me to take this assignment; said I would learn to expand my skills if I am working with other races and officers besides midshipmen and cadets, and Terrans. Terrans are easier-they haven’t evolved past their time when they were defeated. They’re still a young race.” 

She paused. Another sip, thinking carefully. “I’d agree that the Romulans I’ve met and worked with are generally personable. While you have some that…believe in the dissent, most of you want peace. Perhaps an identity of your own?” She posed, carefully. She didn’t want to poke the bear further than was necessary. “I am sure that keeping your emotions close is useful in war, but…how does it affect your personal relationships?”

”As a species and culture, we did have a solid grasp on who we were and what that meant for our place in the galaxy at large…” The Romulan stated, almost wistfully. “…unfortunately, that was often tied to our Empire itself…and with that sundered, so to does the identity shatter…and those who try to cling to it, often end up as roaming privateers or warlords with ambitions longer then their actual reach…I once fell in to that first category…and often encountered the second in my post-Naval odyssey.”

Vaelana took an audible breath in and then slowly exhaled out, as her memories flashed by rapidly in her mind, playing back the moments of conflict and cynicism that had defined most of the past two decades of her almost century of life. 

“As for my personal relationships…what personal relationships? I have been mostly sequestered away in a Starfleet Intelligence orbital office…and before that, I had to practice distance to maintain decorum and discipline among my crew on the Warbird Namyr…I may wear this uniform now, but I am aware that it, as well as my prescence, is an anomaly…I do not anticipate many, if any at all, opportunities to expand my social circle during this deploymen…nor do I find myself in the market for such expenditures of time and energy.”

Rena nodded. “I understand a bit about your loss of identity; my mother mentioned as much, as well, when Beta fell to the Dominion.” So many places had been destroyed by intergalactic wars, so many people marooned without a life jacket of sorts in the form of identity. “I hope the Fleet can help you to define yourself, even if it’s not a perfect iteration of that.” She paused for a moment to sip some tea, and let the woman take in her words. “I meant more like boss/employee, but let’s explore that a little more….why? Why DON’T you extend yourself? Surely, there’s any number of eligible men-or women, I don’t judge-in the Fleet who have caught your eye. Is it…fear?” She asked. She really had no idea, just a stab in the dark. 

Vaelana felt herself slip slightly in the chair, her unease becoming more apparent. “How about I just stick to matters of doing my job and commanding this vessel and completing this mission first, before I look to…as you put it, ’extend’ myself. I was put here to guide this ship and crew into once closed off territory for them, not to fraternize.”

The Romulan sat up from the patient’s chair with an abrupt swiftness and adjusted the black and red jacket of her uniform before looking back over to Rena. “I think that will do for the initial on-boarding and psychological evaluation report for now, don’t you think so too, Counselor?” She said, her voice sharply more stern and frost-laden than just before.

And there it was-she’d pushed too far. Rena simply nodded. “Of course, ma’am. Let me help you out.” She mused to herself as she stood to escort the CO out of her office. “Shall I clear some time for you next week? Say, Thursday, same time?” She let her words hang in the air as Vealana gave her a LOOK and headed out.