Stardate: 2368.07.08
USS Discovery; Observation Deck – 0800
Lana walked into the observation deck and with a brief nod in greeting to the captain she took her seat. She glanced around nodding to the other officers present and noticed that the CFCO was also present. Lana had berated and scolded herself after leaving his side mere hours earlier. She prized herself on always triple checking or in the very least double checking her patients. Cursing herself silently she made a mental reminder to check in on the CFCO before she returned to the sickbay. She also made a mental note to try and get some sleep sometime but she knew that she’d be working a full shift in the sickbay before she would allow sleep to claim her.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the Captain began the meeting. Taking note every once in a while at the CFCO, she was worried about the man, and she now was afraid that she had given the wrong diagnosis to the man. She nodded her head when the captain asked if everyone was recovering. She did however, chance a glance at the CFCO worriedly before attempting to focus back on the meeting.

Sooner than expected they were dismissed and she stood outside debating with herself as to follow Raphael or not. Sighing with frustration she decided against following the man but instead returned to the sickbay to begin her report for the captain.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Observation Lounge - 0810
Serene wasn’t sure how the Captain was going to take her report; she was still pretty new to the ship and this was the first ‘stressful’ situation that had occurred of this nature but she was always as honest as she could be with her reports. She saw the Captain nod to her so she took that as his permission to give her report. She glanced at the XO briefly before returning her gaze back to the Captain.

“First off Captain,” she started keeping her voice low and even, “I wish to say that I respect you and your position but, with all due respect, what were you thinking when you pulled a stunt like that with that surprise drill?”

She knew she had to push ahead before he could retort, possibly in anger.

“During my short tenure here I have found a crew that has been wound extremely tight and ready to explode. Several of them have shown serious mental aberrations; I have seen signs of phobias, anxiety, depression, and even schizophrenia.”

“Now I have no doubt the object of your little ‘exercise’ was intended to better prepare the crew for just such an emergency, but I think all it has managed to accomplish is to further unravel a crew that is ready to come apart.”

She paused and braced herself for the wrathful reply that she expect.

(Decided to post this openly, incase the XO wanted to interject some of his thoughts. Post as much as you like, I will post replies in kind.)

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Holodeck-1030
Jesse emerged from the Holodeck feeling invigorated and quite a bit more centered, for the moment anyway. Riding a scenic trail on a good horse, even if the trail and the horse were replicated solid holograms, was always a balm to his spirit and it took him back to a better and simpler time in his life, when the day’s only requirements were keeping his horse friendly and on task, and making sure the cattle didn’t wander off into cattle peril. His thoughts had returned home, and he had found peace there, as it should be. The old ways are the best ways, he thought to himself. I reckon there’s worse ways to spend your days.
Jesse let his thoughts wander as benignly as possible as he walked back to his quarters, drawing the occasional odd look from passing crewmembers in his traditional Western ranch attire. As he entered and the doors hissed closed behind him, he removed his trail gear, tossed it aside, and had an invigorating shower, splurging with some real water this time. Since the trail dust that was ever-present on a cowboy was holographic in this case and had disappeared when he ended the holoprogram, he didn’t really need it, but the hot water seemed to rinse away even more tension and was welcome for that reason if for no other.

Jesse’s appointment with Serene was at 1100, so he cut the shower short and donned a fresh uniform. That done, he tapped his combadge and checked in with his replacement on the bridge. The crewman reported that all was well, filling Jesse in on the highlights of what had gone on with Ops during the morning, which was blessed little. There had been a few lingering matters that were mainly a result of the sim, but the competent and able team under Jesse’s command had taken excellent care of them. He began mentally compiling some highlights of his departmental report as he signed off with the bridge.

As his thoughts turned once more to his imminent sit-down with Serene, Jesse heaved a mental sigh. He absolutely hated having to dig into the pain of his past, but he had enough clarity at the moment to realize that this was necessary if he was to be able to go on. This has been eatin’ at my brains an’ guts fer too damn long, now, he thought. It’s time to ride this bull down, tie him up, and get ‘im to the corral.
With a final glance at a picture of his loving family, Jesse left his quarters, turned toward Serene’s office, and walked, with hope that Serene could help exorcise the demons. And with a sudden grin, he realized something unexpected: for the first time in a long time…he had hope.

(OOC: Teller, PM me when you’ve read this and we can start building our post-by-post exchange. My goal is to hash out the very worst of Jesse’s troubles in this session so that he can get back to work and I can work on regular plot posting, and we can do some further interludes and sessions as things progress.)

Below is a little collaboration between Duncan74 and Myself. Presented for your enjoyment. Enjoy!

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Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Counselor’s office - 1055
When Jesse reached the Counselor’s office and hit the intercom button to announce his presence he was greeted by Serene’s voice from the speaker.

=/\\\\=Lt. Graham, thank you for coming. Please join me in Holodeck 2.=/\\\\=
Jesse was a bit taken aback at that. Hmmm, that’s a might unusual. Wonder what she’s got up her sleeve? he thought. “Understood; on my way,” he replied. As he set out for Holodeck 2, he took a moment to ponder why she wouldn’t be meeting with him in her office. Ah well, he thought, she’s the shrink.
Once he is back on the turbo lift, it is only a short hop to Deck 11 and soon he is in front of the door to Holodeck 2. He can tell that a program is running, the name shown on the panel says “Graham - Session 1”. Announcing himself the door opens and allows him access.


Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Holodeck 2 -1100
The door opening before him shows a dark room at first, entering it takes his eyes a moment to adjust and he begins to make out what looks like a natural setting before him. He saw a starlit sky, who’s constellations looked familiar to him, and what looked like a bonfire burning brightly in a bare area upon a grassy plain. Around the bonfire was set a couple of logs set out like benches upon which to sit.

A long person was sitting on one of the logs; this person rose and he could see it was Lt. Markus, the ship’s Counselor. She was dressed in western garb: form-fitting straight leg jeans, a light blue embroidered western shirt with ¾ length sleeves, a pair of distressed brown R-toe western boots, a chestnut colored felt cowboy hat and a red western paisley bandana knotted about her neck completed the ensemble.

“Come Jesse,“ Serene said as she smiled and beckoned him forward, “I thought you might be more comfortable in familiar surroundings.”

The setting he realized was that of a Texas plain on Earth; the constellations were those he had seen many times during the spring months.

He blinked in surprise, then grinned. There were definitely worse ways to have a headshrinkin’ session. With a companionable nod at Serene, he said “Nice duds. Gimme a minute; don’t wanna spoil the mood. Computer, please produce my usual clothing for use in the Graham Alpha Series holoprograms. Um, and a privacy screen,” he added with a sheepish grin at Serene.

A large opaque cylinder formed around him, along with the requested clothing at his feet. He quickly changed into his customary riding jeans, comfortable boots, worn western shirt and trail vest. He strolled over to the unoccupied log and sat, laying his uniform beside him.

“Thanks for going to all this trouble for me,” he said. “So, um, obviously I’ve got a lot of baggage to deal with here. Where do we start?”

By the time he had changed into his cowboy gear, Serene had reseated herself on the log. She smiled at him and looked around at the oh so real hologram around them. A gentle breeze could be felt upon her skin, it was refreshing on what seemed a warm humid night.

“I like to surround my patients with something that is familiar and more relaxing,” she said with a shrug.

“As for your ‘baggage’,” she started to say then paused, “first let me tell you something about my skills, Jesse. May I call you Jesse?”

“I have a natural ‘talent’,” she said leaning backwards and looking up at the shiny stars overhead, the Milky Way stretching across most of the sky, “I can sense things from people. I read people, their inflections in speech, their posture, even minor ’tics’ in their expression. It helps me in my work which is helping people to deal with their ’baggage’.”

She looked back at him with a faint smile; she leaned over and picked up a small log and threw it on the fire to keep it from dying too low.

“So tell me Jesse,” she began as she looked at him, concentrating, “was it the supposed Borg involvement in the Captain’s ’drill’ that triggered some repressed trauma from the incident at Wolf 359?”

Serene had read Lt. Graham’s file extensively and knew of his past and what happened at Wolf 359, she had been on the bridge during the drill and felt the powerful emotions emanating from him when the Borg was mentioned. It made sense that someone, who had survived where so many others had died, would have strong feelings and maybe even nightmares about the event.

Jesse stared at Serene for a moment. “Gee, Doc, you don’t waste any time, do ya?”

He looked down into the fire and stared at its glowing heart as he pondered the question and all of its ramifications. As he knew they must, the memories of Wolf 359 crawled back into his conscious mind like some creeping monstrous beast.

The words came haltingly at first; he hadn’t shared this pain with anyone else except for the generic counselor that had replaced Dr. Stinson, the Liberator’s original counselor that was killed during the battle. That seemed as much like talking to an unknown, non-faced computer as anything.

“I…was on the USS Liberator during Wolf 359,” he began. “I’m sure you can, and probably have, accessed the logs from the…incident…and gotten the official details. It’s the…unofficial stuff…that I can’t get away from. Stuff like seeing the captain in…p-pieces…”. His voice began to break as he recounted this, and tears sprang unbidden to his eyes.” Stuff…like…seeing friends…seeing a girl I had gone out with…floating across the viewscreen…after they’d been sucked out of the ship through hull breaches. Some of them were still…al-alive…for a few seconds. They were flailin’ around…you could see ‘em screaming….out there…in space.”

He paused and drew a shuddering breath. “It was chaos. I’d reach to pull someone out of the rubble by an arm, or a leg…and that would be all that came out when I pulled. Then at some point…the ceiling caved in. It fell on me. My left arm and leg…crushed to paste. Gone. Duranium beams…stuck through my body. They ended up replacing a lung, my spleen, and my pancreas too. Hell!” he exclaimed as he smashed his arm through the end of the log on which he was sitting, “I’m as much machine as man now! But I’d…I trade my whole body…my whole life…if I could just…just…”.

He looked up at Serene with an utterly tortured expression on his face. “Did you know, Doc,…there was this crewman, she was a nurse I think…her husband and all four…four…of their children…they were such a happy family…they all served together on the Liberator…they were all…all…killed. They died together …holding hands even…together at the end…”

Jesse finally could take it no more; he broke into ragged sobs. “It…should’ve been me…they all died, I got crushed into jelly, and then they pinned a damned medal on my chest…Oh God…it should have been me!”
Jesse felt a soft hand come to rest on his upper right arm, when he looked up he saw Serene slowly sinking to sit next to him on the log. Her soft brown eyes seemed almost hypnotic as they meet his tear filled ones.

“Jesse,” she began, her voice sympathetic and smooth, “No one can doubt the pain and anguish that you experienced back on that horrible day. We have all had similar experiences in one fashion or another.”

He might doubt that, but one look into her eyes and he could see his own pain mirrored in there; she knew the pain of losing friends and family. What he didn’t know is that Serene was El-Aurian and had escaped the destruction of her home world and most of her people when the Borg came and ‘assimilated’ them. She had watched cities being cut out of the ground and pulled up into the sky, people falling to their deaths as they tried to escape the horror. Then later when the few with her had escaped to space, the Borg attacking and cutting up the ships, people being sucked out into space to die of a mercifully quick asphyxiation before the cold killed them or explosive decompression tore them apart.

What Jesse also didn’t know is that during the drill Serene herself had flashbacks and fear at the mention of the Borg, but she had much better control and the devastation she had experienced had been over 100 years ago.

“Nothing will completely remove the memories of what you saw and felt,” she said moving her hand down to take his right hand and hold it softly in between both of hers, “but Time will help to make them more distant and more bearable. Believe me!”

The tone of her voice was sympathetic and soothing; she spoke as if someone who spoke from experience and wasn’t just saying these things to try and calm him.

“I won’t promise you that I will take away all the pain and anguish,” she continued softly, “but I want to help you get past these things and get them out of your system. If you wish to continue in your career with Starfleet you must learn to deal with the past and not let it affect your present or future.”

“Now the ‘condition’ in which I found you in your quarters earlier,” she said her tone becoming a little more serious, “can’t be one that is repeated. Such behavior, and lack of concern for your own well-being, will endanger your position upon this ship. I have said nothing of this to anyone, and it won’t appear anywhere except in my personal files which are closed to everyone except myself. If it happens again, I will have no choice but to remove you from duty for the safety of yourself and the rest of the crew. Do you understand that?”

“Now,” he stern tone softened as she continued to hold his hand, “I will want to discuss this further, and it may require many sessions to help you deal with this trauma. Also, I will always be available to you day or night if you feel overwhelmed by these memories. I will help you to get past this, if you will let me.”

Jesse looked over at Serene with sincere gratitude and hope in his eyes. "I truly hope you can help me, Serene," he said. "This has been eatin' at me for years. I just want to put it behind me and move on."

A troubled thought suddenly came into his mind, and he gave voice to it. "But seeing the crew...floating...out there in space...that was real to me. Real. I saw them as clearly as I see you right now, Serene. I can't do my job if I'm seeing dead people, to quote that old 20th century movie. Is there anything you can do for me to help keep that from happening again? If it happens again, and we're in a real combat situation, not just a sim, I could get people killed."

He looked into the fire once more and shuddered. "I can't have that happen. I won't have that happen. I have enough corpses on my conscience."

Serene nodded and gave his hand one last sympathetic squeeze before she released it, “I know Jesse,” she said, “it seemed real to all of us. That was the intent, I think.”

She still wasn’t sure what the Captain had been hoping to accomplish with that drill but if stressing out the crew even more than they already were was the aim, he had hit the mark dead-on.

“I will try to get you thru your ‘ghosts’,” she went on, “but know that you are in Star Fleet and it is a dangerous assignment. Things happen, and unfortunately people die, nothing can change that.”

“But know this Jesse,” she said looking him directly in the eye, “what happened at Wolf 359 was not our fault. You didn’t get those people killed, you did your best and you survived where not many did. Perhaps you survived because your mission in life is not yet complete; maybe some great task yet remains for you to accomplish.”

Serene stood up and looked upwards towards the Milky Way stretching across the clear night sky.

“If you work with me to overcome your past trauma,” she said still looking up, “you could be destined to one day save more lives than were lost on that tragic day.”

She turned back to look at him and gave him a smile, “So, I would like you to think about what I have said for a couple days and then we will schedule another session where I want you to come ready to discuss your dreams and what we can do to get you over your past.”

Jesse smiled at her and nodded. “Will do, Counselor. And thank you. I really appreciate everything you’re doin’ for me.”

“Ok,” she said, “stay here as long as you want and enjoy the peace and tranquil scene.” She looked around and smiled, “This is very beautiful country and I am sure you were very happy growing up here.”

“Lets see if we can get you back to such happiness,” she said look at him again, “Good night Jesse.” She nodded to him and then turned and walked away from the fire.

“Computer, Exit!” She said and the Exit and control panel appeared, she left the Holodeck and the Exit disappeared once the door closed leaving him alone. A coyote howled in the distance giving him a sense of a very familiar and comfortable

Jesse stayed a while longer, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the sights, smells and scents of home. Then, with a final wistful sigh, he stood up and grabbed his uniform. No use puttin’ real life off any longer, he thought. I’m sorry that y’all are gone, he said in his mind to those he knew and lost at Wolf 359, but I’m still here, and I figure I can honor y’all better by gettin’ on with my life, rememberin’ y’all with the greatest honor ‘n respect a man can muster, and workin’ toward the ideals we all signed up to serve.
As he called for the exit and walked through it, Jesse felt an odd excitement, that he was at the threshold, the cusp of moving on and making the most of his life and career as a Starfleet officer. It wouldn’t happen overnight. But it would happen.

Yup, he thought with a smile, I’m still here…

~Fin~

Stardate: 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Holo Deck – 0400
Ruea always came here when she felt tense. She had tended to Merrows and Aqua, made sure they were okay, but now the anxiety was catching up to her.

She sat with her legs crossed on a small platform just above a lake. Ruea took deep breaths, thankful that the computer could emulate the scent of water. It was just a small little program, small so it wouldn't take up much space, but it was hers.

Tentatively, Ruea reached forward with her hand. As she lifted her fingers, small droplets of water trailed up from the lake, defying gravity. Curling her hand upward, the water she pulled came together in a small sphere. Ruea closed her eyes, motioning her hand forward, as though knocking on a door. Slow, calculated movements. With each, a small droplet dripped from the sphere, an audible pitter on the lack's surface when it landed.

Ruea felt her anxiety fade as she listened. Suddenly she threw her hand upward, and in response the sphere of water went into the sky, turning into dark clouds. It began to rain.

Ruea smiled as she tilted her head, face directed upward into the rain. She liked water.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Lt. Leiran's Office - 1000
My, Uzuki certainly has a way with simulations. Leiran thought to herself as she purused the document on screen.

In a way it was elegant in its simplicity. First, consider the small fighters in production, namely ones with cloaking capabilities. Then consider the Sphere, which was reportedly the Borg's scout and tactical ship. Finally, build with the assumption that the different technological aspects could be hybridized. An easy assumption to make given the track record of the Borg.

Leiran stared at the ship on her screen. It had visible characteristics that made it hard to identify. Four external wings spanned the length of the ellipsoid craft, projected outward from the radius, bearing some semblance to the outer stabilizing ridges on the wings of bird of prey ships utilized by the Romulan and Klingon Empires. Looking closer, however, the deisgn was clearly Borg based, the surface of the craft well defined with ridges and plating visually reminiscient of the Cube and Sphere.

"Borg Ellipsoid. Well they have a Cube and they have a Sphere. They seem to like geometric shapes." Leiran noted to herself.

That was as far as Uzuki had gotten, mostly in an attempt to build a visual reference before working on the interior and hybridization of the various technological properties. If the old Borg reports were any indication, the interior would be thoroughly alien and difficult and time consuming to attempt to emulate to begin with, and during the exercise there was certainly no time.

"There was no time then, but we have time now." Leiran chuckled, idly rubbing her hands together before setting them ready above the keyboard.

She closed her eyes a moments and breathed. This was just another project, and like all of the other projects, it would get done. They would see to it. She grinned as she looked at the module, and started typing...

Tasha woke up groggily, cotton mouthed and her head aching. staggering to her feet she stumbled to the on sweet bath. cussing as she stepped on a flux tube feeling the plastic and fiber snap under her foot, stumbling she banged her elbow on the desk. stifling a yelp she looked at her elbow which has swollen in her sleep and now shooting pain seared through it as she cradled her arm an fought to keep from crying. Steeling herself Tasha stood stiffly and finished the walk to the bathroom and awkwardly washing her face. struggling to pull her uniform on she managed the pants but had to suffice to pull the jacket over her shoulders her night shirt awkwardly tucked into the waist of her pants she headed back to the med deck. mentally trying to remember when she was scheduled for her next shift, she hopped that they'd have enough coverage.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Lieutenant Zavaleta's Quarters - 1800
A low, garbled moan drifted through the otherwise dead silence of the Chief Flight Control Officer's quarters as Raphael began to reawaken. His mind bogged as consciousness returned, he sluggishly shifted his weight in an attempt to prop himself up. only to overshoot and pitch sideways toward the bedside table, knocking over a saucer. The resultant din of the glass tea cup and plate spinning on the floor bore through Raphael's head like a plasma cutter.

Zergatik...
From his past experiences, these grievances (the sluggishness, the sound sensitivity, the sensation that one had been unaware of his surroundings for weeks) were normal side effects of the sleep aide which he'd been taking whenever his insomnia got the best of him. Each previous experience also brought Raphael to the conclusion that he despised resorting to the aide, as these initial effects were worse than any hangover he'd ever endured; thankfully it also dissipated much quicker. Still, he was thankful that use of the aide had ensured one thing; he did not dream. As such he was not visited by the image of some sort of spectral-angelic woman; a blessing, considering the alarming frequency of such images in the morning.

Allowing himself the time to recuperate, Raphael realized, upon looking to a clock, that he'd overslept, something difficult to control regarding the induced sleep he'd endured. Cursing under his breath he hastily prepared for his few remaining duties; he still needed to get full accounts from his staff to report to the captain.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Lieutenant Zavaleta's Quarters - 2000
After tracking down his staff, and avoiding unnecessary conversations with those who may have been concerned about him being up and about, Raphael had to deal with providing an analysis of their reactions.

The inexperienced Ensign Thorn had performed impressively well under such a stressful situation, and with minimal aid, considering the time it took Lieutenant Scofield to arrive, and his own unknown whereabouts. The only thing that bothered the CFCO about it was he didn't want to overstress Thorn, as the young pilot could sometimes get over-excited under pressure, which led to sloppiness in the flight simulations.

Lieutenant Scofield's temper had been less than professional, considering her rather slurred account after Raphael had been revived in the hanger. Her sober account had been considerably more civil, but still hinted at hidden displeasure at the rouse. In as much, Raphael surmised that she did not share his appreciation to the use of simulations for training. Ideally though, her temper would subside and she'd see its value; such events were very beneficial for ship-wide preparedness.

His remaining staff, Lieutenant Foxwell and Ensign Dotalsi had been off-shift and furthest from the command deck, resulting in their participation in other emergency preparations, as both ready to pilot shuttles in case of evacuation, or report to the bridge if required (though such a feat would have been difficult in a real event). Still, an appropriate response to the situation as far as Raphael could see.

Additionally, Raphael included a secondary copy of his modified schedule of the Conn, and noted his thankfulness for the attentive actions of Lieutenant Kampf and Lieutenant Commander Synklar in both locating him and preventing any more severe injuries from occurring.

Satisfied with his report, Raphael left his quarters to locate Captain Blair, wondering if he should additionally request allowances to work in the slower paced Stellar Cartography lab until he was fit to resume duties. However, whether he made such a request would depend upon the mood of the Captain when Raphael found him.