Post Number: 250 *Meeting with the new Counselor*

Posted on Mon Mar 24th, 2025 @ 2:55pm by Captain Marius Pontmercy & Lieutenant JG Lirian Tarel

1,339 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Secrets

On:

Marius knew that the crew had been under a lot of strain, but he was proud of their dedication nonetheless. There had never been a more dire time in their history, but they were doing an incredible job. He knew that the Chief Counselor was new, but had already done a significant amount in aiding the crew. He tapped his comm badge.

"Lieutenant Tarel, please report to my ready room."

Lirian set down the PADD she had been reviewing and straightened her uniform. The call from Captain Pontmercy was unexpected, but given the strain the crew had been under, she had a feeling it was only a matter of time before this conversation happened.

Tapping her comm badge, she responded in a steady, professional tone.

"On my way, Captain."

As she exited her office and made her way to the ready room, she took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself. She had already spoken to many of the crew, offering support and guidance, but if the Captain was calling her in now, it likely meant he wanted a broader assessment—or a plan to help them push through the challenges ahead.

One way or another, she would do everything in her power to ensure the crew remained strong.

"Enter," Marius called. He saw that the Counselor had arrived, and motioned for her to have a seat.

"Welcome, Counselor. Thank you for coming right away."

Lirian inclined her head respectfully as she stepped inside, her keen eyes studying the Captain’s expression for any signs of what lay ahead. She took the offered seat with practiced composure, folding her hands neatly in her lap.

"Of course, Captain," she replied smoothly. "I suspected we might need to have this conversation sooner rather than later."

Her voice carried an undercurrent of quiet confidence, the kind that came from someone who had spent countless hours listening, guiding, and helping others navigate their own burdens. She met Marius’ gaze evenly, offering a reassuring presence.

"I imagine you’d like an assessment of the crew’s morale," she continued, her tone thoughtful. "They are holding together, but the strain is evident. Some cope through routine, others through camaraderie—but there are fractures beneath the surface. If we don’t address them, they could widen at the worst possible moment."

She paused, watching his reaction. "I assume you have concerns of your own as well?"

"Yes," Marius said with a sigh. "This has been a catostrphic blow not only to the morale of the crew, but for the Federation itself. Many people here lost loved ones and friends, and they're going to need your help getting through this. What is your plan for that?"

Lirian absorbed his words with a measured nod, the weight of the situation settling between them. She had seen grief manifest in countless ways—some buried it beneath duty, others lashed out, and some simply withdrew. None of it was easy, but she had dedicated herself to guiding people through moments exactly like this.

"My first priority is ensuring that no one feels alone in their grief," she said, her tone even but empathetic. "Many will try to push forward, convincing themselves that they have to be strong, but unprocessed loss has a way of surfacing at the worst times."

She leaned forward slightly, hands still folded. "I intend to implement structured support—small group sessions for those who are willing, one-on-one counseling for those who need it but hesitate to seek it. I’ll also work closely with department heads to identify those who are struggling but unwilling to ask for help. And for those who aren't ready to talk, I’ll make sure they have outlets—constructive ways to cope."

She let a brief pause settle before continuing. "Beyond that, I want to focus on rebuilding purpose. People need something to hold onto, something to remind them why they keep going. We can find ways to honor the ones we lost, to make their sacrifices meaningful."

Her gaze remained steady on the Captain. "But I also know that leadership carries its own burdens. How are you holding up, Captain?"

Marius paused for a moment, and then a sad look crossed his features before returning to his normal stoic expression.

"While I grieve for Starfleet and the brothers and sisters we lost, everyone I've ever loved died years ago. I was already alone." His thoughts drifted quickly to Victoria Grayson, and her death he had never quite managed to recover from. "I find solace in the fact that they did not have to suffer through this tragedy."

He shifted in his seat before speaking. "I am also stressed, but I'm managing. Lately I've found it hard to leave this room, the endless reports and missives and distress calls don't end, so I'm trying to get through them the best I can."

Lirian listened closely, noting not only Marius’ words but the flicker of grief that briefly broke through his controlled demeanor. Loss like his left scars that never fully healed, and the weight of command only compounded the solitude.

She nodded slowly. “There’s no easy remedy for what you carry, Captain. The grief of the past doesn’t simply fade, and now, with this new tragedy, the burden grows heavier.”

Her gaze remained steady, understanding but firm. “You say you’re managing, and I believe you. But managing isn’t the same as living. Isolation, even when it feels necessary, can be corrosive. These reports, these distress calls—they will always be there. The work is endless. But if you let it consume you, if you don’t step outside this room, you risk losing the connection that keeps you grounded.”

She gave him a small, knowing look. "I understand that duty demands your time, but isolation—especially when paired with stress—can take its toll. You don’t need me to tell you that Starfleet doesn’t function without its captains, and a captain who never steps away from his desk is more likely to make mistakes."

She let the words settle before continuing. “I’m not here to tell you to ignore your duties. I know you won’t. But I am going to ask you to take moments—small ones, even—to step away. Walk the corridors. Talk to the crew, not just as their captain, but as someone who understands their grief. Let them see that they are not alone in it. And let them remind you that you are not as alone as you think.”

She tilted her head slightly, her tone gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to do this all at once. Just one step at a time. Will you at least consider it?”

Marius frowned for a moment as he contemplated what she said. It made sense, and there was logic in it. He wasn't sure if he could manage it, but maybe one small thing at a time...

"I will," he promised. "I appreciate your candor," he said honestly.

Lirian gave him a small, approving nod, recognizing the weight behind even that simple agreement. Change didn’t happen overnight, and she knew better than to push too hard. The fact that he was willing was the most important step.

"That’s all I ask," she said gently. "One small step at a time. And if you ever need to talk—not as a captain, but simply as yourself—you know where to find me."

She rose smoothly, sensing that their conversation had reached its natural conclusion. "I’ll begin implementing the support measures we discussed. If I notice any concerning patterns among the crew, I’ll keep you informed."

Lirian met his gaze one last time, offering a quiet but reassuring presence. "You’re not alone in this, Captain. And neither is your crew."

With that, she inclined her head and made her way toward the door, giving him space to process.

Off:

Captain Marius G. Pontmercy
Commanding Officer
Starbase Obsidian

Lieutenant jg Lirian Tarel
Chief Counselor
Starbase Obsidian

 

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