Counselor, Heal Thyself (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on 07 Dec 2017 @ 5:29pm by Ensign Miraj Derani & Lieutenant Lake ir-Llantrisant

1,885 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Episode 15 - Emanation
Location: USS Hathaway - Deck 13, Medical Laboratory
Timeline: MD 94 - 1141 hours

Previously on: “Counselor, Heal Thyself (Part 1 of 2)”

Nodding slightly, Lake said, "I heard you say you contributed to unleashing a cyborg, because you stopped some good guys from blowing up the cyborg with a bomb that would have killed twelve people." Shrugging off a question to Miraj, Lake said, "What does it mean to you that those twelve people weren't killed?"

"Not a lot. Most of them still died." Miraj stared at the floor, remembering the cloud of insect like robots. She'd been quick to close her eyes and mouth and protect her nose, and instinct honed growing up on space wrecks where who knew what could be kept behind sealed bulkheads. "There was this....swarm of tiny robots this thing could control. I got lucky, but the others, they were suffocated by them. Seven men and women...."

"And what about your own life," Lake interjected, he was quick to ask the follow-up question. It seemed the obvious question to him; he wondered if Miraj thought so little of herself, why she dismissed her accomplishment. "What does it mean to you that you saved your own life?”

And now the conclusion.


[ON]

Miraj looked taken aback. "I...I don't think that ever occurred to me." she admitted. She hadn't thought about it at the time. Oh, she hadn't wanted to die, but she'd never considered actively saving her own life. "It was just saving lives, in general. Because that's what good people do."

"Good people," Lake said. He swept out a hand, gesturing towards Miraj to acknowledge her words. "Trouble magnet," he added, although he added a questioning lilt to the words, as if he still didn't totally believe it. "What's the correlation between the two?" he asked.

She wasn't sure she understood the question. "I don't know. I don't think the two are mutually exclusive. Bad things happen to good people all the time."

Sensing Miraj's confusion --and more than a little of his own, frankly-- Lake sat back into his chair and took a sip of water. His head was swimming with his observations of Miraj, flashes of his own memory, his imaginings of the horrors Miraj described. Lake felt hot, his face was flush, and his thoughts wouldn't string together into a cohesive thread. He considered his words, he followed his curiosity, and he said, "What would you need to walk away from here with to make our conversation feel like an accomplishment to you?"

"I don't know," Miraj frowned., heavy brows pulled together and making the trident shaped indent in her forehead, wrinkled up. "Does it have to. I thought Counselling was just talking." She stared at the floor again. "Am I too much trouble? Do you think? Can someone just be too much of a liability?"

Pressing his palm against his chest, Lake said, "I apologize. This time is for you. We are here to talk about what you'd like to talk about." He nodded and he bit his lower lip, chewing over his next choice of words. Lake felt the heat of embarrassment. Given everything Miraj had said already, it felt to him like he had made her feel like she was even a trouble-magnet in the context of attending counseling. His body tensed. He didn't want to make that mistake again. Watching Miraj closely, he said, "I've heard you say you saved six lives, because you're a good person. You didn't create that cyborg. I honestly haven't heard anything to suggest you're trouble, except for the fact you keep saying that to yourself."

"Then why does so much seem to happen? In the last nine months I've been shot at, jumped off a waterfall, chased through jungle, molested, assaulted, threatened more times than I want to think about, imprisoned, blown up and tortured, and had brain surgery. Am I just the butt of some existential joke?"

Lake couldn't help it, he couldn't help himself. The raw nerves bundled up by his stoic professionalism all came screaming out. Sternly, Lake said, "You don't own the monopoly on tragedy. It's the uniform. Starfleet drives you towards danger. It's Starfleet that's trying to kill you. Starfleet is trying to kill us all.

"My boyfriend just dumped me to focus on his quote career at Starfleet Academy," Lake went on, and at this point, he was straight up ranting. "I got so angry I threw a cake at a redshirt in the halls. I'm being haunted by a Pakled ghost, and I don't even believe in ghosts. I got shot by your old Galileo CO, and she dragged me into the night naked, and left me for dead. My husband has been murdered" --He practically chocked on the word, the way he sputtered it out, and he started counting it off on his fingers-- "My husband, my Chief Counselor, two of my friends, two of my patients, all of them are dead. And Starfleet Command won't tell me how, or why. I don't know if they've been lost in time, or vaporized, or if they're Borg now. My husband could be a Borg now for all I know.

"Because," Lake said, and his voice went cold, and he slowed to enunciate his words, "He is-- he was a Starfleet officer."

A whirl of thoughts and emotions went through her. Surprise (She had assumed that the counsellor was a Vulcan, afterall they were all supposed to have unpronounceable family names, and she couldn't pronounce his at all. And the outburst suggested he was not your ordinary Vulcan). And there was something about the story of being shot by her old CO. She'd only ever had one CO, Lirha. And she had something tickling her memory about that. Nesh telling her a story about Lirha shooting one of her friends?

And there was also guilt, yes she had sufferred, but she hadn't really lost. Her worrying about being too much trouble was selfish by comparison.

And after a moments thought, a question formed. "What stops You leaving?"

With the way Miraj had been looking at him, Lake physically curled in on himself. He crossed his arms across his abdomen and he tucked his chin down to his chest. Even when she asked him the question, he didn't look up. Lake could practically feel Yuulik's judgemental eyes boring into the back of his head.

"I live in servitude," Lake replied. He spoke softly now. There was a lyrical tenor to his voice, but if this was a fairy tale, it was a grim sort of fairy tale. "The Federation took me in, rescued my family, when the Star Empire would have had us vaporized. Starfleet educated me, taught me everything I know. How can I leave? I live indebted to Starfleet."

Miraj felt even more guilty. Her childhood had been ridiculously idyllic, even though her mother abandoned her, she'd always had a home, always felt loved, never felt threatened, never had to give up anything (Except when she'd been cramming for the entrance exam, and that thought made her feel even more guilty and selfish). "But you're not its slave," she said quietly.

That's when Lake tilted his head up. Looking at Miraj, his expression lay somewhere between a knowing smile and a bitter smirk. He leaned in close to the table and he spoke to Miraj at a whisper Yuulik wouldn't be able to hear. "That's the greatest lie the Federation ever told you," Lake said. For as softly as he spoke, there was the weight of certainty behind his words. He almost looked pleased at this truth, or at the relief that came from his knowing this truth.

The young pilot looked at him in speechless shock. She had never thought, never questioned, the Federation. It was impossible. It was the Federation. It had unquestionable moral authority.

Lake rolled back his shoulders, straightening up his posture in his chair. He lay his hands flat on his thighs and he leveled his gaze in Miraj's direction. When he spoke, his intonation was even. It wasn't quite Vulcanish, but perhaps close enough. "At this point," Lake said, "I must thank you for your patience during my emotional outburst. It has not been my most professional moment. I commit to you that I will not repeat it within these four walls."

Miraj wasn't sure why he was apologising. " I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't upset me," Lake was quick to correct her. Holding his chin up, he shook his head from side to side to emphasize his point. "Making you feel as if you had is why my behaviour was unprofessional," he said, "You didn't upset me. My life upsets me. You were here. If this was a pub, I would be telling you more, but this is my place of work."

"Either way, I'm still sorry, " Miraj was feeling utterly wretched, but trying to look brave. She'd come because of the guilt she'd felt for the people who'd died at the dig site.. But now she just felt small and selfish.

"Again," Lake affirmed, "that is why my outburst was inappropriate." --He shook his head in embarrassment, closing his eyes as he did so-- "I should let you return to your duty for your day, and you can reflect on if you believe I can be of further help to you, going forward."

She nodded, and got off her seat. "Yes, Doctor. She walked to the door, paused and turned round. "Can I ask a question?"

Tilting his head up, Lake nodded at Miraj's request. "Anything," Lake said, his expression genuinely open now, "You can ask me anything." He looked to Miraj, expectantly.

"Have you ever met an Orion woman called Nesh?" She's about my age."

Squinting at Miraj's question, Lake replied with, "Mmm, I might have done." His answer wasn't intentionally vague, but he was struggling to remember that name. It was as if he was trying to see small number plates on a house, through an alcohol-induced fog upon his memory. "Was she on Earth a few months ago?" Lake asked. "I met a woman at an art gallery. Her name may have been Nesh..."

Miraj blushed, and knew then she wouldn't be coming back. The story fell into place. He'd been shot by Lirha, and he thought he'd met Nesh in a gallery. Which meant this doctor was the same rather attractive man in the sketch books Nesh had shown her before she'd left. She wasn't sure she'd be able to tell him anything, not whilst she was thinking about his lower abs and that perfect v-shape that pointed out things she was never going to forget.

Lake watched Miraj leave and, to his shame, he forgot about her and her problems as soon as she was out of his line of sight. He dropped his chin to his chest, staring at the table, thinking of nothing but how he would explain his outburst to his Cadet. In silence, Lake pondered what teachable moment could he spin this into?


[OFF]

Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Lake ir-Llantrisant
USS Hathaway
Chief Counselor

Ensign Miraj Derani
USS Hathaway

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