Finally, a Real Meeting
Posted on Tue Jun 11th, 2024 @ 9:59am by Lieutenant Commander Elen Diari & Lieutenant Vura
Edited on on Wed Oct 2nd, 2024 @ 9:06pm
0 words; about a 1 minute read
Mission:
Episode 15 - The Evil That Lies Beneath
Location: Chief Counselor's Office - Deck 5 - USS Pioneer
Timeline: MD002 1300 hrs
"Oh No. No. No. Nope. N-to the O. Nicht. Nein. K'zit. Aw. Non." El screamed in her office.
"Good news, then?" Dave shouted from the table, sarcastically.
"Shut it. Or you're going IN the drive." She retorted, waving a spanner "The counsellor wants a meeting."
If Dave had eyes they would be bulged, "Sorry to hear that love. Know you hate the head doctors- lucky for some of us who don't have heads, not a problem."
Elen did hate counsellors, had enough of them after her Time Wedgie, three years of constant monitoring, and she'd been trying to avoid them for the last few years- someone at the Starfleet Loony bin must have finally done some work, and tracked her down.
"Suppose I'll have to go, just to keep them off my backs," she sighed.
"I'll get your kit packed for the rubber room while you're away," Dave answered.
If looks could kill, Elen would have vaporized him at that.
Vura patiently waited in her office while she looked over the file of the Chief Engineer. It was a doozy. She could hardly believe that the CEO had lived an alternate life and had it all wiped away in an instant. Space was a strange place. Deltans concentrated on their own sensations and experiences but they sought them. Privately she wondered if Deltans should seek more away from home. After all, a lot more interesting things happened away from home. Perhaps the concern was involuntary experiences. The Deltan filed away the thought for later analysis.
At the end of the day, though, Vura had to establish her psychological baseline as way too much time had passed between Elen's last assessment and the one she was about to conduct.
When the chime rang, Vura stood up and tried to make herself as little alluring as possible. She called out to Elen, "Come on in!" And when Elen had entered, the door, Vura continued, "Make yourself comfortable."
At the entrance to Vura's office, there were placed some blooming lavender plants, which gave off a pleasant soothing smell. On a wall, over a couch, she had put up a copy of Katsushika Hokusai's "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" above a periwinkle couch that swooped up and then down in the middle and then back up again. The couch had definite sensual innuendos written all over the convenient shaping.
The walls of her office were of a deep rose with hints of purple hues. From there, she opted only for a small desk, so the desk would not set a barrier between her and her clients. It was a semi-circle and she placed it carefully in such a way where she could swivel on a chair and quickly type something on a computer or PADD and not interfere with her relationship with her client. The color of the desk nearly blended into the wall but was more mauve on closer inspection.
Warm wooded mahogany chairs were available in case her clients did not prefer to be on the couch. There was a small glass circle table between the chairs. The table contained a small zen sand garden and rake for clients to manipulate.
And now, Vura waited for her favorite part of the initial meeting, Elen's reaction to her room, her greeting, and where she would end up.
Elen stuck her head in "Ok, a bit grey in here, suppose neutral tones and all that," she timidly walked in the room, looking round before picking one of the chairs. Checking it first, before sitting down.
"Sorry, the last counsellor I saw was a bit of a practical joker, so a bit wary in case of phycological tests, like the chair being wired."
Now THIS was a new reaction. Vura enjoyed ever minute of it and laughed prettily. "Oh, my goodness no. I promise, no practical jokes. I think that would be rather detrimental to my getting to know you. I'll notate your file, if you would like, that you do not like surprises."
"Oh, it's in there. Just Treymair chose to ignore it." Elen shrugged.
"Well, I can't say for sure, but perhaps he was trying desensitization techniques regarding surprises to help you." She shrugged apologetically. "It looks like that probably was a poor choice of techniques for you. And, it makes sense that is why you would choose one of the mahogany chairs," Vura concluded.
The Counselor picked the other chair and sat down at an angle to Elen. "So, of course, I brought you here because you are overdue on your psychological evaluation but I would rather not run you through the usual barrage of tests. I'd rather get to know you. So, please, tell me about yourself, and please, for the love of whatever God you worship, do not give me only the things that I can find in your dossier. It does get tiring."
"Sure, Dad makes furniture like this, Mom's a math teacher. I'm a particle physicist by training, don't really want to be an engineer, but fell into due to people not wanting me in the places I went. Starfleet Physics is so political, if you weren't part of the clique, didn't get anything. So was put in Sci-Ops fixing labs, went to fixing stations when moved to Finland Station. Then here when Jon and the guys, er, earned the Feynman, as they had a proper engineer in the team, and couldn't get the CSO job for reasons I can't go onto without major security clearances." She explained.
"When not fixing the ship. It's mostly woodwork and opera- Terran, early Bolian, rather than Klingon, and deus-forbid Andorian." El shook her head at the thought of Andorian Opera.
Vura wanted to laugh. The responses came from Elen so quickly that they might have been shot out of the phaser banks more slowly. To try and alleviate Elen's affect, Vura purposely spoke softly and slowly, hoping to relax her a bit more. Mirroring what Elen said, Vura asked, "So, you do not want to be an Engineer, and yet you're the Chief here. May I ask why you have not put in for a transfer to a position where you could be the CSO? There are lots of ships in the fleet."
Elen paused, thinking about it "I'd only want to be CSO with Jon's team, we worked together in Sci-Ops, and my name's pretty much blacklisted in Starfleet Physics, so can't go back to blue. Anyway, already done it, in the other timeline. It's just ..." she trailed off "I'm a fixer, there's just too much bodging, keep things running with the minimum of trouble, quick repair, rather than a complete solution total fix down in Engineering, which I don't like. Only chief due to experience, trying to change the attitude, but it's pretty much built in."
"Other timeline.... That's right, I read about that in your file. I cannot imagine what that must have been like. If you would like to talk about that more, we can. And why do you believe that you are blacklisted?"
"I don't believe. I know, seen the paperwork from Admiral Davis myself. No member of my Scientific Operations team, 4-2, the Hong Kong Cavillers, can hold any chief of department, or even assistant chief of science. This was before the Feynman assignment, had to go over his head to get that through for the guys, so no further dispensations was the deal. As for why, we cost Davis a major promotion when he was captain, on safety grounds." Elen explained, leaning back in the chair.
The Counselor leaned back a little, thinking. "That seems rather unusual, especially if you still want to do science. I feel like you should be able to appeal that decision, but perhaps it is too late." The counselor shrugged. "Do you feel as useful in Engineering? It is obvious that you still resent the entire situation with the banning from being a Chief of Science...."
"It's not a case of usefulness, it's a bit of imposter syndrome. There's all these people, trained in engineering, specialists in their field, being managed by a Physicist, who can fix replicators. Just feel out of place," Elen replied. "When I was CSO on the Jersey, I worked up to it, did my time at the lower levels."
"I see," said Vura nodding lightly. "So you are concerned because you did not work your way up through the Engineering ranks and part of you feels that your Chief position is undeserved. Is that correct?"
"Yep. Would have stepped aside for my old Assistant, Rissy, if she'd stayed on, but she went to be the CE on the old Xo's ship. Might do it for the new guy if he wants the job in time" She confessed.
"Why?" Vura asked very curious about Elen's potential answer. Was the Chief's imposter syndrome that strong? Or did she want to do something else?
"Mostly, don't want to be in the way of them getting into the Big Chair if they want to. I don't want to go any higher up the food chain, been a two and half pipper, that was bad enough," Elen answered. "I do not want command codes ever again."
"Why not?" Vura asked even more curiously, leaning forward to show her keen interest.
"It's kind of a big deal, having a code that can blow up the ship, Diari-zero-two-two-four, then boom. Don't know how Commodore Big Ears handles it, granted command is a mystery to me. I can tell people to go and do jobs, but order them, not for me." She leant forward, holding her hands together, thinking of others El knew in red (or grey, as she sees it)
"Big ears?" Vura asked stifling a chuckle. "Of all the nicknames.... That's what you call the Commodore? And why do you think that telling a person to do a job is different than giving an order?" the Deltan asked genuinely curious.
"With a job, they can tell you to stuff it, can't do that with an order." Elen explained, "As for Big Ears, came about as about a two years ago, we, as in this ship, was hit by a quantron pulse, and the entity that got the crew back, Keef, works with Jon on the Feynman, described The commodore having this particle aura that made him look like he had large circular ears on the top of his head."
"I should like to hear more about that," Vura responded, completely humored. "There is so much that I don't know about this ship and crew, being new here. How long have you been here? With this crew?"
"Me, about two and a half years, it was about a month in when the pulse happened. 72780-ish, if you want to pull up the logs. Tried to get Keef here as a QSD specialist, but said no." Elen answered, wondering what the angry lightbulb was up to these days.
Vura nodded, taking in the information. "So, command is not a goal. You don't want to be the Chief of Engineering as soon as someone can take it over. So, what are your goals? Where do you seen yourself in say, five years?"
Elen relaxed into the chair. "Back on Finland Station and Harby before it, had a sort-of second job, was the head of the R&D, proof of concept prototypes lab, we called Toybox. Would love to go back to that, running the small open.... you know the Terran term, hackspace? A science, engineering workshop that any of the crew can use for ideas they have."
Noting that Elen had relaxed, Vura smiled internally, knowing that Elen had finally allowed herself to be more completely open. So many people came in on edge, which she could not understand. After all, she was usually trying to help people evolve. "So why don't you do that? What's keeping you here?"
Elen looked around, let out a deep breath. "Well, I gave the space I had planned for it to Alyssa, and haven't found a replacement yet, got a few options. Why I'm still Chief Engineer, well, it goes back to the Jersey, we couldn't go anywhere else, so you just stick it out, lived that life for 25 years, so pretty much ingrained.”
“So, you’ve just given up on being more?” Vura asked. She frowned and told Elen, “I can’t decide whether you just want to feel sorry for yourself and act the martyr or you’re a masochist. Either way, it is a shame since you have so much to offer. I think you’re a fascinating person.”
"Nope, not given up. Just long-gaming, Sooner or later, I'll move or be moved to a larger ship with space, or some room will open up here for the Toybox, I'll get to do that, leave all the engineering admin to somebody else, who enjoys that sort of thing. Go and fix things rather than just repair them until they break again. Have to just wait, took my boys years to get their ship," Elen explained, trying to diffuse the situation.
The Counselor stared at Elen for a good long while, debating how much denial that Elen was in. The fact that she put a happy spin on it did not change a thing. Knowing that she was hitting a huge block here that was not going to be broken down today, she switched topics, "You have quite the department that you run. I've met several of your team, though Paisley is gone. Quite the characters.... How do you manage all of them?"
"I don't manage. It's more a case of point the right person at a job, giving them the tools, and leaving them to it. Most of my job is working out who does what, as I get to know them, it gets easier. You know, if Paisley had stayed any longer, I would have been off. Incidentally she took the gig instead of what I was thinking of; just couldn't gel with her, she was too much like me when I was younger, could pick a fight in a vacuum," El tried to explain.
"Paisley had a unique history and personality. I was working with her, but alas, she left," Vura answered disappointed. "I personally rather liked her."
"Yeah, If she calms down a couple of notches, she will be a great engineer; hopefully whoever's your equivalent on the Lexington will help, that and cargo bay load of Methylphenidate." Elen answered, trying to file the memories of her former assistant somewhere else.
Vura snickered at the mention of a cargo bay of Methylphenidate. Regardless of how much that Vura cared about Paisley, she had to agree that the woman had the attention span of a goldfish. "Well, your department does seem to get quite a few characters, which is quite unexpected for those in the engineering field."
"When I get to choose staff, I go for the interesting people, as they usually have better solutions, or skillsets than your run of the mill people," El explained. "Like, for example, there's a new ensign we've got, Milly, instructors at the academy didn't know what to do with her, turns out she's an excellent problem solver."
Vura knew exactly who Milly was, seeing that she saw her on her very first day and was going to see her again sometime today. Of course, she could not share that information, nor her traumas. "Tell me about Milly. What do you mean that the Academy did not know what to do with her? How has she demonstrated her problem solving skills over and above what the Academy would see?"
"They wanted her to specialise in something, when really what you want are generalists out in the field. Put her on a problem we've had for a while, a section of deck five that's been throwing out errors, things will fail: lights, grav plate, power, go to check and they'll be fine, or read OK, but you know they're not. Tricorder, diags say light on, but no light that sort of thing," El explained. "Milly looked at it, and solved it in no time, as two separate systems- the environmental circuit and the power circuit were interfering with each other. A specialist would only look at their circuit, not the thing as a whole."
"That is possible," Vura agreed. "But a specialized problem may call for a specialist and not a generalist who would not know how to solve the problem or would take excess time. There is a place for everyone in this universe and on this or any starship."
"Can you tell that to the Fleet? Everything these days in going specialised, modular. Drop a block in with special tools and persons. Even in Starships- the Insignia class, swop out mission specific sections of the hull- need a marine core- clip-clip, take out the science core. I hate to say it, but it's like Borging things." El let it out, unbottling these thoughts she'd had for a long time.
"Tell me how you really feel," Vura replied with a polite giggle. She had long decided that she liked Elen. She was unconventional, unapologetic, and undeterred in all of her opinions. "But seriously, I am glad that you can unburden yourself to me."
"It's good to have someone I can talk to about these sort of things. That's what is missing on my staff, someone to have a good-natured whinge about things with. You know, someone to hand you the bottle of synthehol, as either a drink or a Molotov." El weakly smiled remembering Dana.
"But synthohol does not loosen lips like real alcohol." The Counselor sighed. "That is the one thing that is better about being on a Starbase that is better than a ship.... There's always a shipment of alcohol somewhere and you can taste so many different types of drinks." She sighed again. "My problem is that I'll get something of what I liked but then I never drink it again. I just enjoy new experiences too much, a common Deltan 'flaw,' if you wish to call it that."
"I have no idea whatsoever about the drinks cabinet behind the QSD, panel 21C, containing a good selection of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants finest falling down waters." Elen mocked innocently "The shock of the new, I think it's called, know a couple of people like that, it's not just Deltans."
"I suspect not, but we're rather well known for desiring to concentrate on new experiences and sensations." Vura trailed her tongue slowly along the top of her upper lip and let it trail to the bottom. "When we go out to eat or drink or both, you will see what I mean."
"I'll warn Grev, a Klingon Chef on Empok I know, he's always looking for testers for his culinary experiments, the last one was an Orion fish in bloodwine batter, melt in the mouth delicious," Elen answered. "Wish I scanned it for the replicator."
"Replicators are good, but the freshest dishes are usually the best. Also, the replicator would use synthahol for that bloodwine and I suspect that it would lose the oomph that Grev intended to have."
"'Cators, especially the type 115s we've got, can produce alcohol with some fiddling. I'm a level four matter systems tech, Cators, and Porters, been playing with them since my science days, only thing a particle physics person can do when you're not given access to the colliders."
"You're definitely a good person to know, then," Vura informed Elen laughing lightly. "I don't know the physics or engineering behind it, but it would seem that since the replicators can literally create matter from molecules, that making alcohol should not be an issue. It must be something against StarFleet regulations allowing a replicator to do that."
"Yeah, there's a blacklist program in the datacore of things you can't make- poisons and the like, unless you've got the clearance codes, like the science labs. I'll have to give you my address book sometime, lots of more interesting people in there." Elen slyly mocked.
"So, that leads me to a very important question: When are we having these tastings?" She then smirked and added, "Aren't you glad our communications are protected by counselor-patient privilege?"
"Well," El flirted. "You sign off on my psyche assessment, and the files will be in your replicator in less than fifteen minutes."
Vura chuckled, turned her head slightly, and gave Elen a private wink. "I thought that engineers were more efficient than that. However, there is a lot to be said about beating around the bush...."
"It's a twelve minute walk to my office." Elen smirked.
"I probably should make certain that you don't get lost or too distracted along the way, then. Could not have anything untoward happen to our chief engineer, even if she does not want to be the chief."
A Joint Post By
Lieutenant Elen Diari
Chief Engineering Officer, USS Pioneer
Lieutenant Vura
Chief Counselor, USS Pioneer
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