STF

Pre-Sim: Psychological Eval

Posted Feb. 14, 2019, 3:23 p.m. by Lieutenant Elmira O’Shea (Chief Tactical Officer) (Trin S)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Royal Sinclair (Counselor) in Pre-Sim: Psychological Eval

Posted by Lieutenant Elmira O’Shea (Chief Tactical Officer) in Pre-Sim: Psychological Eval

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Royal Sinclair (Counselor) in Pre-Sim: Psychological Eval
Posted by… suppressed (29) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Let’s just like around the mind of a Betazoid. That ought to be fun! The sarcasm in her thoughts dripped to her expression, revealing one of illmanner and displeasure towards the thought. Despite being telepathic, to a degree, she had never been much a fan of people poking around her head, searching for answers about her inner self. There was a reason she had barriers, and it was to prevent people with the nerve to tap at them, from getting in.

Alas, it was a required event, and she hadn’t much choice, if she had any plans of starting her work aboard that ship, anytime soon. It was simply another needle in her back, but at least it was tiny enough to manage. Brushing off hee uniform, she adjusted it about her torso, heading towards the Counselor’s office, where she hoped to get this done as swiftly as possible.

Humming, nearly inaudibly, as she passed through the halls, she searched for the door marked with the Counselor’s name and profession. With her hands comfortably clasped behind the small of her back, she tilted her chin up, narrowing her gaze to make certain of the room she had stopped before. Determining it was the Counselor’s office, she muttered a soft curse to herself, and pressed her hand against the chime.
I
Elmira O’Shea
CTO

A male voice with a pronounced Scottish brogue said “Come in, it’s open.” and the doors slid open to reveal the Counselor’s office.

Decorated in a warm and calming manner, the office was welcoming and not at all like the rest of the offices on board. The desk had been moved to the corner of the space where the bulkhead met the outer hull’s windows, opening the office space up for a seating area large enough to hold more than the single individual that most often came to talk with the ship’s Counselor. A couch and a few chairs were set around a small table, on which sat a crystal bowl filled with multicolored glass beads that seemed to have a small amount of internal light inside them. Two chairs sat facing the desk, probably allowing for more formal conversations or for administrative needs.

Low bookcases lined the walls, each one closed with a glass fronted door with brass hinges, in which sat some real books, many notebooks, and a few bookends of various sizes and shapes. On the wall behind the desk were several pictures on either side of a display case. Each shelf was filled with a few items the young officer seated at the desk had collected so far; but on the top shelf prominently sat a single item housed in a rounded glass display: The Star Fleet Marine Corps Distinguished Service Cross.

The officer himself was something of an anomaly as far as Counselors went, as well. Seated at the desk, the human male was still striking in size. Broad shoulders seemed to fill out the blue uniform of the Medical and Science section in a manner that seemed to contradict the norm, and the broad chest was obviously well-muscled. Bright blue eyes looked up from a handsome face graced with a warm smile. Blonde hair cut more akin to a Security officer or Marine topped his visage, and Lieutenant Commander pips on the collar seemed to contrast starkly to the man’s youthful appearance.

As O’Shea entered, the man stood up… and up… and kept going up until he reached close to seven feet in height. The smile on his face broadened. “Hello, Lieutenant. I’m Lieutenant Commander Sinclair, Ship’s Counselor. What can I do for you today?” he said, the Scottish accent now positively unmistakable. He gestured to a seat facing the desk and added “Please. Have a seat.”

Sinclair, CNS

The interior of the counselor’s office was remarkably welcoming, in comparison to the standard monochrome of the remainder of the ship. Warmth radiated from its walls, producing a serene air, which Elmira could say she almost felt. Its design was simple, but its contents were everything but. Seconds passed, and a dark, obsidian gaze seemed to study– to scrutinize every intricate detail of the man’s office. To be expected, she would have assumed, but for some reason, she had been anticipating an office a little less.. Bright, in essence, compared to the one she found herself standing motionlessly within.

The unmistakable drawl of the Scottish tongue broke past the silence she had found herself wrapped in. Her attention now adjusted to the bulky man situated behind a fair-sized desk, she was in for another surprise. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the service cross, leading her to the wild assumption that this man either had a history with the Marines (which his physique seemed to agree with), or had relation to someone who had. Surely, she knew better than to outright ask about his personal life, without even knowing who the man was. Holding her tongue, she offered a slightly crooked smile to the Counselor.

“Lieutenant Elmira O’Shea,” She nodded to Sinclair, taking a seat in the offered chair. In order to seem less tense than her body might have begged to portray, she brought her left left across her right, clasping her hands above her knee, in order to assume a relaxed position. As a Betazoid, she had never been the fondest of psychological evaluations, but she understood how trivial they could be to the operation of a starship. I suppose they don’t want a sociopath dealing with tactics. She mused to herself, raising her gaze back to the young counselor. “I’m here for a psych evaluation, if you don’t mind.”

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

“Of course. Few people come by just to say ‘Hi’. I would put real money on the bet that if it wasn’t required to check in, my office would probably become very quite for extended periods.’ he said with a chuckle. “One sec while I pull your file. If you’d like something to drink, please help yourself to the replicator.” and he tapped a few commands into the desk interface. It would then be noticeable to anyone with the right training that while his desk had a few odd mementos and such sitting on it, each was placed in a specific spot and at a specific angle to prevent anyone sitting at the other side of the desk to see clearly what it was he was typing at any time without making a very obvious physical adjustment to get a clearer line of sight.

Sinclair, CNS

Elmira wasn’t interested in what the Counselor was typing into the interface. Whatever he was doing was of his own accord and she really didn’t have much a reason to question it. Waving a hand, she shook her head. “I should be all right, thank you.” She hummed, waiting for him to pull up the profile. At first glance, there would be nothing outstanding about the fiery redhead, who seemed oddly mellow for what her outwardly appearance might suggest. Her records were clear, beyond a few reprimands from when she was at the Academy and in her Ensign years, although Elmira was no longer that troublesome woman, any longer. At least, she tried not to be. Emphasis on tried.

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair looked through her file in a surprisingly short amount of time. Once he was satisfied, he looked up and said “So let’s begin. Why don’t you have a seat on the couch or one of those chairs - ” and he indicated the seating area, ” - and we can get to it?” He stood up and came around the desk. “I don’t like having a desk between me and others. I think it puts up a false impression of there being walls between me and who I am speaking with. And in this office, there is none of that. You are free to say whatever you wish. I am simply here to assist you in being comfortable on board and making sure there are no… potential difficulties… we need to be aware of.”

Sinclair, CNS

“I understand,” Elmira spoke quietly, rising to her feet. Maneuvering over to one of the chairs, she lowered herself into a seat, leaning her forearms against her knees and clasping her hands between them. It eased the muscles of her back, which flared up from time to time. “The separation between patient and doctor should not exist beyond the professionalism of the situation, and even then, a counselor really doesn’t fit that description.” She chuckled, watching the man with keen eyes. “What is it you need to know, Sinclair?” She questioned, hardly one to dwadle about before getting to the point.

Lt. O’Shea

“Well, let’s start with the big one and work our way backwards. You were obviously a troubled adolescent. What made you change to become a model Cadet?”

Sinclair, CNS

“‘Troubled’ is a nice way of putting it; ‘unruly’ and ‘in need of proper discipline’ are the truths.” Elmira remarked, sarcasm dripping from her tongue. “When you’re bad at behavior, you get punished. You get talked down to, like you’re some kind of animal. I didn’t like being treated like I was an animal, even if my behaviour begged to say I was. After being forced back to the Academy, stripped of my progress in Starfleet, I learned it was time to stop being stubborn and actually listen to the sound advice people were giving me. Alas, I’m not cured of the trouble, Counselor, merely in self-induced remission.”

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair looked at her and cocked his head to the side. “And what about before that? Before you entered the Academy the first time? You went from delinquent to dependable… no record as to the why. So… why the change of heart?”

Sinclair, CNS

Elmira seemed reluctant to answer that question, a narrowing of her eyes enough to substitute for her claiming ‘I’d rather not say.’ Alas, she didn’t figure the counselor would let her off the hook that easily, so she figured she might as well answer it. “Actions have consequences, as I’m sure anyone with half a brain knows.” Her hesitation did not show across her features, which remained indifferent, impenetrable. She fell silent, debating if she actually wanted to go here, or just keep the counselor in the dark. Then again, Elmira wasn’t the kind to beat around the bush. Spit it out and be done with it, that was her motto.

“I hurt someone, Counselor. My stupid antics broke someone’s neck, but more importantly, their heart and their trust. There is nothing like looking into the eyes of someone you treasure the most, only to find they stare back at you blank and broken, before assuming a bitter hatred for what you had done.” She seemed almost to spit those words, as if she couldn’t be bothered to say them, or couldn’t bear their baggage. Either way, her gaze seemed to darken, as she leaned away from Royal. There was no disdain for him, only her own guilt.

“Can we move on?” She asked, impatiently, trying to avoid any further questions on the matter.

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair listened as she spoke, careful to keep his own features passive and expressionless. Once she had finished, he said “If you wish. But know that guilt over actions that cause injury to another is actually a healthy reaction. Especially if it is someone that is important to us.” and he then changed the subject. “Tell me about your mothers.”

Sinclair, CNS

“I know..” Elmira had intended it to sound cocky, but it sounded more like how she felt; forlorn and regretful. “My mothers are two eccentric women, in their own respects. Androna, my Betazoid mother, is an incredible businesswoman. She can turn a room of skeptics into believers; her persuasion a trait I could only dream of ever possessing. She is a tad on the manipulative side at times, but I suppose you have to have a silver tongue to survive in business and politics. Nonetheless, her intentions are often pure, even if her execution is seldom the same.” She paused, thinking about Lilliu, her sweet face still present in her mind. “Lilliu, my human mother, was a kick@ss woman. She didn’t let anything get in her way. Until the day she found her last breath, she fought. However, she was sweet– almost too much so for her own good. She balanced Androna’s cold exterior with her own bright, vibrant personality.”

Lt. O’Shea

Sinclair smiled. The description reminded him of his Granddad. “How do you and Androna get along since her passing?” he asked.

Sinclair, CNS

“Hmm? Reminding you of someone?” Elmira caught the smile, wondering what he was thinking. “It’s been rocky; any death takes a toll on the family. Although, she’s decided to move back to Betazed, in hopes of reconnecting with her family. Gods know what will happen to her, but it’s all of her own choices. Personally, between us, ‘quiet’ is the best way to describe it.”

Lt. O’Shea

Sinclair chuckled. “We are here to root around in your head, not mine Lieutenant. But yes, it does.” he conceded. “Is ‘quiet’ how you want it? How do you feel about the distance between you? Spatially, not emotionally.” he said with a wink.

Sinclair, CNS

“A pity, you seem like an interesting person, Counselor.” Elmira shook her head, amusedly. “‘Quiet’ is not too concerning when talking about someone like Androna. I suppose I don’t dislike it or agree with it. Sort of neutral, I guess.” Falling quiet, she found she hadn’t thought of that. “It’s nice. It gives Androna the time she needs to heal. If she needs something, she knows the info.” Elmira shrugged, indifferently.

Lt. O’Shea

Sinclair smiled at the humorous compliment. He then said “But what if you need something? Would she be available to you as well?”

Sinclair, CNS

“If I were an optimist, like many of the younger population, I’d be inclined to say yes.” Elmira waved her hand, “Alas, optimism is not a tool I possess. So, bluntly, no. She is grieving, her business on the verge of break if she doesn’t step up and regain her strength. Quite frankly, with everything on her plate, one might wonder if she has time for anything.”

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

“That is most unfortunate. I do hope she is able to find her footing. If you would like, when we are done, I can give you the name of an excellent grief counselor you can forward on to your mother.” and he made a few notes. “Betazoids tend not to take on the roles of Tactics and such. What drew you to that position?”

Sinclair, CNS

At that offer, blackened eyes lit up like lamposts in London, the second the sun set. “If you could, that would be incredible, counselor.” Elmira was a gruff woman, but she cared deeply for her family.

At first, the question through her for a loop, despite it being so common she could have had it rehearsed by this point in her life. “To me, the universe is a series of questions, not all with answers. Tactics combines a level of ingenuity and intellect to one’s physical capabilities, effectively bringing together aspects of security and intelligence. It gives the opportunity to solve hostile problems with an effective solution, based on both wit and security background. I always thought of it as the sort of witty younger brother of the Security department, far more focussed on his books than his brawns.” She smiled, “I never had the capacity to listen to the thoughts of others, nor feel their pain. It was something far too overwhelming for me.” But like most Betazoid, she was driven to help those in need. “Tactics offered me a chance to help others, without having to feel their pain to do so. It allows me to solve problems and defend people, even if I haven’t the strength to do so as many of my people can.”

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair looked intrigued at her explanation. “That is certainly a… unique… perspective, Lieutenant. Most Tactical officers I knew in my previous duties just seemed to like blowing things up.” he said, a soft laugh accompanying the last sentence. “Although I will say, I always expected my Security team’s biggest muscle to be their brains.” he added with a grin. “So tell me about your time on the Dresden. Did you enjoy it? Have any friends that were hard to say goodbye to when you left?”

Sinclair, CNS

“I’m not surprised.” Elmira returned, blandly. “Most of them would be happy target shooting for the rest of their lives,” She shook her head. “The Dresden? She was a good ship, I haven’t a doubt she still is. Although, I wasn’t really there long enough to form any real relationships, I was close with the second Executive Officer who came aboard, and spoke a great deal with the CIO. Nobody insanely difficult to say goodbye to.” She shrugged, “The command was unique though, working beneath a marine as opposed to a Starfleet officer. In some ways, I preferred his attitude over that of my previous Captians.” She glanced directly at him, “He didn’t take crap.”

Lt O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair, unfazed by the black-eyed look, said simply “Many of the best ones don’t.” and made a few more notes. He then looked up and said “Tell me about your time at the Academy. Any favorite instructor? Lasting friendships from that time?”

Sinclair, CNS

“Most of the professors were more than willing to pay me to get out of their classes. But there was one.. Mister Thatcher; my weapons teacher, to put it mildly.” She indicated that wasn’t the actual name of the class, “He was a middle-aged man from Southern Florida– half the time I could have sworn he had a history of more than just Starfleet, with the stories he told us.” She chuckled, “But he was a good man. He saw through my crap, and most the time I hated him for it. Although, that insight got me to where I am today.” She smiled, but it quickly faded. “Otherwise, there was a cadet, two years ahead of me: Christopher Johnson– I hear he is a Captain now. Besides the fact, he and I had an.. interesting relationship, still have a sort of on-and-off one, but he helped me through a lot and vice versa.”

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair chuckled. “Thatcher. I remember him. Always brought in that stuffed alligator head and made whoever failed the pop quizzes wear it all day. I loved his classes.” he said, an odd statement coming from a Counselor. Without giving time for a question about it, Sinclair then said “So you are still in contact with your… ‘friend’?”

Sinclair, CNS

“You had Thatcher, too?” She seemed surprised, before recalling who she was talking to. His office was enough to say he hadn’t always been a psychiatrist.

“I will shamelessly admit, I had to wear that gator head once. You would not believe how it stunk.. but it was good insulation on those cold San Francisco mornings,” She chuckled at the memory of once parading the school with that head on her shoulders. Regardless of the oddity of the punishment, everyone in the tactics or security courses knew exactly what it meant, and that made it both more embarrassing and amusing at the same time. “Did you ever have to endure the pain of that punishment? Or were you one of the kids who got their ear talked off about his one encounter with an alligator in the glades?”

Her face went from upbeat to solemn, in a matter of seconds. “Sometimes. I drop him a message here and there, maybe get a few responses, then it fizzles out.” She shrugged, “Normal Starfleet friendship, when your light-years apart.”

Lt. O’Shea

Sinclair listened and when she finished said “Let me ask you a question. How much do you think geography plays a role in relationships? By that, I mean… do you believe that distance is an insurmountable obstacle to lasting friendships?”

Sinclair, CNS

“Distance is.. trivial in regards to a relationship. Truly, anything beyond the interactions between two individuals are inconsequential. Environment, distance, species, gender.. I believe a relationship is built in the mind and in the heart. Everything else is just a series of viable excuses for us to use, whenever we aren’t contributing our part or trying hard enough to keep an unassailable bond.”

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair nodded slightly in appreciation and said “Healthy view point, Lieutenant. Although I would caution against holding everyone to that same level of understanding. Distance can be a large distraction to some.” and he made a few notes on the PaDD. Looking back up he said “So how are you feeling?”

Sinclair, CNS

“A lesson I’ve had to learn the hard way,” She smiled with a certain understanding to him. It was difficult to accept when another does not feel the same in a relationship, especially in regards to distance. Although, she was slowly coming to comprehend the differences between people and their views. Raising a brow, she debated if there were some kind of double entendre to his question. “Stable,” she replied, finding it was the safest answer.

O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair nodded and then said “Stable is a state of being. I asked how you are feeling. Bit of a difference. So… care to elaborate a bit?”

Sinclair, CNS

“I’m not angry, I’m nod sad nor happy. Just sort of neutral, I guess. Apathetic, even.” She shrugged. Apathy was a common state of mind she resorted to, when she didn’t have the energy or the desire to express emotion. It was a safeguard for her, so she didn’t have to deal with feelings. In this instance, unlike most days, she simply didn’t have any emotion to recognize, beyond neutral content.

Lt. O’Shea
CTO


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