From: Gershon
Date: Thu, 10 Apr 1997 22:32:04 -0500
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: The Results Are In
SD: 90411.0200
MD: 4.1700
Counselor's Office
Deck 6
<< EYES ONLY : MEDICAL RECORD >>
FM: COL Adam Eklund, SFMC
TO: LTJG Stavay Tats-Marush, USS CHESAPEAKE
RE: Medical Records
Enclosed are the medical records for 2 Platoon, A Company, 38 Regiment,
84 Brigade aboard the USS CHESAPEAKE. You will find them complete and
satisfactory.
<< END TRANSMISSION >>
Hmph. Just the right thing to find at the end of a long and taxing day.
Well, they can *wait*. After I eat dinner, I might come back and take a
look at them, thought the Counselor.
*************************************************************
MD: 4.2000
Counselor's Office
Stavay tapped the PADD very slowly. Shachor was interesting.
The records for his platoon were even more interesting. It would have
made a good book, if you could have found anyone admitting to reading
books like that. In the very least, it would have kept your interest
to the last page.
As for ENS O'Graech -- the biofile number, 13131313-Z marked it as a
special case biofile. His psyche record said more and more and revealed
less and less about this very bizzare person. Stavay was an "alien" as
far as the Federation was concerned, but a nice little tame Orion alien.
O'Graech, on the other hand, was so off the common scale of experience
that the biofile seemed to read like a long Irish joke that you had to be
Irish to get.
Add Murray, Keyrin, LeDoux, the report from the OPS manager, and now
Shachor and O'Graech to a long pile of troubles, and it was time for a mental
shutdown. She stopped reading. Why bother?
Pressing a button, she began to speak.
***
Counselor's Log, SD 90410.2. After reading the reports of the crew and
after my experiences with several crew members, I have come to the conclusion
that the ship needs more that just *two* counselors.
The only ones who seem in any way sane are Captain Bell and Commander Brennan.
Now, I'm beginning to wonder if they have something to hide. As for LCDR
th'Tellan, I believe he is a man with a few "quirks", but seeing as how
he bothers no one and gets along reasonably well with his department,
I'm fairly sure that his "condition" will remain stable if not necessarily
improve. The trick with the psych test warns me that the LCDR's wit
and intelligence is *never* to be underestimated, even though he might remain
flawed mentally.
Furthermore, LCDR LeDoux might be helped by the two days rest I've prescibed.
At the very least, she'll not have any work strain added to her emotional
strain. I still have faith that the Doctor can pick up the pieces of her
life after the separation from her boyfriend and potential soul-mate. That
faith, however, will be tested shortly as we have a mission briefing shortly.
More on that later.
As for ENS Keyrin and LT Murray, I have grave doubts as to their ability to
function adequately as officers. Their departments have already raised
several complaints, and act as if they are one step removed from complete
emotional breakdown. My job will be to find each of them a way to vent these
emotions, if not "cure what ails them". I believe LT Murray has no problem with
venting at all, as I have three bruises on my left arm that will testify to
that. Getting her to vent without getting myself killed will be a greater
problem.
1LT Shachor and ENS O'Graech's records are spotty, to say the least. Our
MCOs platoon records, however, tell me the story that he has a counseling job
of his own, Marine-style. I'll need to *meet* Shachor and O'Graech before
I can draw further conclusions, but something tells me they'll fit the pattern
quite nicely.
ENS Gann, on the other hand might be a different story. A Trill. Trills tend
to be quite stable psychologically. For the first time, I'll test that theory
up close.
It reminds me of something LCDR th'Tellan told me as we were walking in two
different directions, "How are you, Mr. Zookeeper?" He smiled, as he always
did, a private joke between him and creation, one which of course held deeper
meaning. It was the smile of a man who knew something that I didn't.
However, the final three evaluations will be critical to further conclusions.
I am beginning to wonder, however, if the reason we were put together as
a ship's crew was *because* all of us have been touched by mental illness
at one time or another -- Murray, th'Tellan...myself.
******
Stavay thought for a minute, then answered, "Computer, copy this entry to a
Personal Log Entry for this Stardate. End the Counselor's Log entry; add the
following paragraph to my personal log...."
******
Personal Log: In the old days, we would have been sent to Gray Fleet. But
Gray
Fleet has the worst reputation of all the fleets, and therefore we have been
assembled
in Starfleet's new playtoy, to be given harmless missions and to be kept
occupied
while the best and brightest, not us, do the *real* work. It's not just us.
It's my assistant counselor and th'Tellan's OPS crew and Murray's divison and
Shachor's men and just about everyone on board. The CHESAPEAKE has become
Starfleet's dumping ground. Perhaps I'm just a bit paranoid. But my own
paranoia
proves my point.
End Log Entry.
****************************************************************************
******
Deck 14
Marine Deck
MD 4.2045
Walking down the Marine Deck, Stavay tried not to turn heads. It was
impossible.
Although Stavay did not wear make-up, and kept to loose-fitting clothing, hiding
her gender was very difficult. Many Marines gave the Counselor a very close
look.
Very unpleasant. Most of the looks focused on her face for a few moments, then
on the other parts after that. One didn't have to be a genius to know what they
were thinking. Was it irrational to fear for your safety? And why are you
suddenly jumping to such conclusions?, thought Stavay.
Walking with speed, she touched the wall panel. The computer answered Stavay in
its pleasant baritone, but only for the Counselor. Stavay had heard that the
computer refused to answer location questions on the Marine Deck: a Marine was
*expected* to know where everything was on the Marine Deck.
She walked to a dull office much like the others. Even the bric-a-brac on the
secretary's desk looked fierce. The door to Shachor's office had two signs.
"Chime Before Entering", and "When in Doubt, Ask the Chief".
"Enter," grumbled a voice from inside.
Shachor looked up. What he saw was a green skinned officer wearing a
loose-fitting
uniform. Very attractive. A Shrevashal woman. Representative of all the
potential
of that mysterious race of Orions.
Rationality kicked in. Her Shrevashal heritage and the LTJG pips marked her as
Stavay Tats-Marush, the Ship's Counselor and only Orion on board. What was she
doing on the Marine Deck?
"You wanted to see me, Counselor?" Shachor let his PADD and Identstylus
rest for a
moment.
"Yes, Lieutenant. I haven't had the chance to meet you."
"Well, I assure you, Counselor, I'm quite busy. The life of a Counselor and the
life of an MCO are two different things. All day, I work and train. All night,
I do paperwork. That leaves me little time to socialize. And honestly, I don't
know when I'll find time for that psych exam. My men come first."
"I see." Stavay relaxed. "Quite a shame about your platoon."
What? "Well, I won't disagree. It *is* a shame, but we'll have to adopt, adapt
and improve. But I *don't* think they need any more psychological exams. So I
don't think you'll be needed."
The bum's rush, huh? "Well, what are you going to do about it?"
Looking up, irritated, Shachor answered. "What I do about it is my business."
"*No.* I'm not trying to take away your authority. I'm asking strictly as
a matter
of curiousity. There are lots of ways to go about it. I just wondered if
you had
anything in mind."
Shachor thought. He stood up to get a glass of water. "I'm going to remind
them of
their *duty*."
"As Marines?"
"Exactly. We're a tight group. The Marines fulfill a need unlike any other in
Starfleet. We're tough. We're fighters first and foremost, and we're
expected to
bleed. Most of the Regular Fleet avoids the dirty work that a Marine is often
called to do. And like it or not, no matter what happens, every being who's
been
through Marine training is there because when Starfleet needs someone who will
give all they've got, to defend the Pride of Starfleet. And each one of those
beings dreams of the day when Starfleet asks, 'Will you help?' I believe, that
each of us would answer, as one being, 'I will.'
"I think in those two words -- I can find something to pull this platoon
together.
I think it's still there. And I'm going to ask them that question, and
they're going
to answer it, God willing."
Stavay stood up. "Well...I'm glad you've at least got an idea of what you
want to do. I won't bother you any more."
Shachor was suprised. "Is that all, Counselor?"
Turning, the Counselor answered. "For now, Lieutenant. And you *will* be
coming
to your psychological evaluation tomorrow. Because it's *my* duty as a
Starfleet
Officer to get you there, and I think that each of us believe very strongly in
duty." She turned to look at the white and blue flag. "Ah. A Star of David."
The MCO looked at the flag. "Yes. I'm suprised you can identify it,
Counselor."
"After four years at SFA, and a hobby of earth-20th century history...it's
not hard
to miss. Good day, Lieutenant."
****************************************************************************
*****
Deck 21
Engineering
MD: 4.2200
"...well, the matter-antimatter mix didn't actually *need* to be changed...but
I changed it anyway."
"Why so?", asked Stavay, walking alongside ENS Jareth Gann.
"Because if you don't give people something to do...they get bored. Take this
ship. Newly tested, brand new from the production line. Technically, there is
nothing for me to do but wait for the test drive.
"On the other hand, people like action. And there's the old saying that every
engineer has his own special mix formula. So I decided to play Mr. "Every
Engineer". There was some grumbling, and I talked to the grumblers, calmed
things
down, asked a few questions--and learned lessons from what I'd heard.
Jareth smiled. "I assume you've come to ask me for my psych test. Sorry, Sir,
I've been very busy down here, although from what I've just told you, I have no
excuse at all."
Stavay smiled. "You have a better excuse than most people would. I haven't
heard
a peep out of Engineering. Everyone here seems happy. Tell me, Ensign,
have you
had any psychological training."
Laughing, the CEO said, "I can spit out tables in my sleep. At the Trill
Institute,
you have to be in excellent psychological help. Ask me any question from a
hundred
great psychological texts, and I can probably answer it. That doesn't mean
I'm not
*crazy*, mind you -- just that I've been around psychologists."
"You and LT Murray would make great friends, then." She turned to the Ensign.
"Did you know that you might just be the only *sane* officer aboard the
CHESAPEAKE?"
Jareth's smile disappeared. "So I've heard," was all he had to say.
****************************************************************************
********
Deck 10
10-Forward
MD: 4.2245
"Why don't ye have a seat, Counselor?" The Irishman pointed out a seat and
Stavay sat down for a drink.
"You drink *alone*, Ensign?"
"How can I be drinking alone when you're beside me?" The bartender brought an
ale for ENS Ozwald O'Graeach. O'Graeach sipped it. "Not enough ale." It was
the third time he had done that.
"Any more hops, Sir, and you'll be *chewing* it."
"Well, it's a challenge then. Hope to see you back with my beer." Turning to
the Counselor, O'Graeach asked, "What's your species, then?"
Stavay smiled, "Shrevashal."
"Then let me give you a greeting. It might not be much, but it's the best I can
do." The Ensign straightened up.
The Counselor frowned. "And why do you want me to help get you get out of a
steel
box?"
"Hmm. I asked the fellow in the adjoining box -- well, I *thought* he was
Shrevashal. Long story."
Stavay noticed the other pilots joking around at an adjoining table. "How come
you're not sitting along with them?"
"Because one of them's only 5 feet 8!"
Looking, she measured the heights this time. What did 5 feet 8 have to do with
anything? Sighing, she answered, "I see. Tell me ENS O'Graeach...have you
ever
taken a Starfleet Psychological Exam?"
****************************************************************************
*****
Deck 1
Bridge -- Ready Room
MD: 5.0900
CPT Amanda Bell examined a PADD. "Enter".
Stavay stepped in. "Sir, I'm glad you could find time with me."
"Have a seat." As Stavay sat, Bell continued, "I've just spoken to CMDR Brennan
and LCDR th'Tellan about our current mission. I'm sorry it took so long,
but they
had to be brought up to date."
"Actually, that's what I want to talk to you about. Sir, I'm making a
request that
you contact Starfleet and have them delay the mission. It is my conclusion as
Counselor that there are doubts as to the mental capabiltity of the officers of
this vessel to complete a deep space mission."
Bell squirmed. "Are you saying that the officers are incompetent?"
"No. But I'm asking, don't send them." It was Stavay's turn to squirm.
She continued, "because I only think it can lead to *disaster*...."
*****************************************************************************
Respectfully submitted,
James Bowman
LTJG Stavay Tats-Marush
COUNS, USS CHESAPEAKE
jrbowman@london2.skn.net AND
JBowman489@aol.com
All: Well, now you know what the Counselor's thinking. "Lynch mob forms to
the right."
Amy: The Counselor's dissed the crew! What do you do? :)
Takako: Still a riotgrrl? :)
Melvin: Stavay is beginning to think that maybe you're *not* joking....
Christine: When's that horsey ride?
Lynnaea: Still waiting for the "Lovebirds" post....
Masako: Can't wait to see you in the Counselor's Office. Something tells me
this will be a very **different** session.
Nora: Hope I got Shachor right.
Fabian, Michael: Just saying hello. :)
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