Starfleet Complex- Rewriting Narratives

Posted Jan. 26, 2023, 5:35 p.m. by Lieutenant Tandra Mika (Counselor) (Nicole Cline)

Posted by Captain Eela Dasca (Lt. Governor) in Starfleet Complex- Rewriting Narratives
Sharah was right, and the worst part was that deep down Eela had known this day was necessary. She wasn’t adverse to therapy (she was a trained psychologist, after all), and she had done the work after her injuries and retirement so that she could find a way to move on.

But things were different now. She was different. In the time between then and now a lot had happened and she was now at a point where she was ready to sit in the mire again and sort it all out. It didn’t mean she was looking forward to this session, but it would also give her the opportunity to meet the new counsellor.

Mika didn’t have even have to arrange to meet Dasca herself as the Lieutenant Governor’s office had sent a message asking for available appointment times. After a couple back and forths with Dasca’s Executive Assistant, Cort Belanger, they nailed down a day and time.

Ever one to be punctual, Eela arrived five minutes before 1500 hours. She nodded to the security officer on duty as she swiped her credentials.

“Good day, ma’am,” the tall Human said, giving her a warm smile.
She smiled back. “Hello, Lieutenant Carr. How’s that little girl of yours?”
“Much better, thank you for asking.”
True relief spread over her face. “Oh, I’m so glad. Sick kiddos are so rough. I remember when mine were that age. It’s hard not to worry.”
“Indeed,” Carr said. “Have yourself a good day, Ma’am.”
“And you as well.”

Moving through the complex to the East Wing, she found the room on her schedule. She had come from other meetings so was in her standard business wear, and undid the buttons on her dark blue blazer and rolled her shoulders a couple times to loosen the tension. Some of it was from her meetings, the rest was anxiety about this session. Taking a deep breath, the Haliian pressed the chime.

~Eela Dasca, Lt. Gov.

Mika was, as Captain McBride had said, busy. Busy getting things in order, busy reviewing cases and case loads and who everyone in her department was and what they specialized in.

It was a lot. It was really, really a lot. That was okay though, she could handle it. It was fine, really and honestly. Well, it would be. Once everything was all set up and ready. She had left her afternoon open for appointments. That was more enjoyable than all this paperwork. She honestly liked the people part of her job. The people had been her favorite part of medical and it was her favorite part of counselling.

When the chime rang, she called, “Come in!” She hadn’t had a chance to fully set up her office yet, but her things were all there. A bookshelf sat in the corner with medical texts, psychological texts, and some fictional books piled next to it. She’d set up her desk to keep everything organized but organized it was not. Her things she was working on were scattered across the surface.

There were three chairs in the office: her chair behind her desk, and two simple, somewhat padded chairs she’d managed to snag from someplace else on the opposite side of her desk.

It seemed the only thing she had taken the time to fully set up so far were the pictures on her wall. Most of them were of her and various Cadets aboard the Academy’s training ship: The first, a photo of Mika’s arm around another girl, leaned into her, both girls grinning wildly. Their uniforms were both blue medical/science, junior Lieutenants. The next was a photo of herself and a Cadet, a man who looked about the same age as Mika did in the photo. Then was a photo of Mika and Sharah, except in the photo, Mika wore a junior Lieutenant’s uniform and Sharah wore that of a medical Cadet. The third was another photo of Mika and Sharah, aboard a different ship, Mika’s uniform showed the pips of a full Lieutenant and Sharah’s, a junior Lieutenant. The fourth was an image of a different ship, Mika and a girl with hearing implants. The photos were arranged carefully on the wall, giving each its own space and presentation, obviously meant to be seen.

Mika herself sat behind her desk, her hair a little messy, like she might’ve run her hands through it several times, looking over a PaDD. When the door opened, she looked up and smiled, a warm and friendly smile. “Hello. You must be Dasca.” She stood and offered a hand. “Lieutenant Mika.”

~ Lt Mika, CNS

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