To Be Active or Not To Be Active; That is the question Counselor Drake

Posted on Mon Apr 21st, 2025 @ 11:11pm by Lieutenant JG Patra Rommel

1,377 words; about a 7 minute read

Counselor Drake watched as Patra as she stared out the observation window, looking down at Earth. "Have you been back down to see your family since your grandfather brought you here?" inquired Drake. Patra frowned, knowing counselor Drake couldn't see her. Drake waited a minute, with no response coming, she made a simple statement "You know you are free to come and go as you please from the station to Earth."
Patra snorted, still looking out the viewport, "Have you forgotten Commander I am unable to use transporters, and getting a shuttle to Earth and back can be a hassle, after all I have a curfew; back by 17:00."
Counselor Drake flinched slightly when Patra used her Starfleet rank. She knew Patra hated it when Drake had her official rank used. Drake liked to think she was a doctor and counselor first and foremost. Sure she was in charge of Starfleet Intelligence psychiatry and counseling division; created by her to assist in helping those who had been effected by their clandestine operations, thus saving Starfleet from reading in personnel who had no need to know about said operations. "So, will you at least talk to me about your experience with the experimental Archibald Drive?"
Patra sighed and turned around, "May I get a drink first?" she inquired walking over to the bar. She opened the mini fridge and pulled out a frosted glass and bottle of Marillenschnaps; then poured herself some, without waiting for permission.
Drake watched all this and replied, "I see you still have your total disregard for chain-of-command. Not even waiting to see if your counselor approved of you getting a drink."
Patra smiled as she took a sip of her drink, "Well you are the one who wanted know about my experience with the now defunct and scrapped Archibald Drive or Alcubierre drive . Well then I feel I am entitled to actual alcoholic drink. Let's see my experience; I was smashed to the subatomic particle level, then stretched like spaghetti, again at the subatomic particle level; finally being smashed again at the subatomic level; at which time the universe scrambles to put you back again." Patra, hands shaking, took a deep drink of her Marillenschnaps. "As all this is happening I am consciously aware of the entire universe, all its myriad layers. I actually saw the Lovecraftian Cthulhu Elder Gods, the Progenitors in the liminal space-time, I saw great wonders and the most darkest horrors. My mind was filled with color and no color at the same time. I heard the most joyous sounds and music as well as sounds and music that would shrivel a soul. Time seemed to go on forever during that period between being smashed-then-stretched-then smashed; yet it was only a few seconds according to the ships chronometer." Again with trembling hands, Patra took a long drink of her Marillenschnaps finishing it. She then poured some more. Her eyes distant and glazed.
Counselor Drake watched Patra as she recounted her experience, noting that it never wavered from telling to telling. It was also very closely matched to what the Vulcan Healers, whom had mind-melded with her multiple times as they healed her. The had experienced snippets of the experience, and it concerned them greatly. Drake pondered whether it was wise to bring Patra back to duty.
“So, do you think this experience changed you? Perhaps even increased your PTSD symptoms?” asked Drake.
Patra smiled and replied softly, “Most likely to definitely. As I said I experienced to the subatomic level everything; both the beauty and the horror. How could I not walk away from it without being mentally and physically altered?”
Touché thought counselor Drake. She knew that she had to press Patra will the iron was hot, so to say. Patra was opening up some about her experiences. “So tell me how do you think this experience has altered you, mentally and physically, as you say?”
Patra brought her Marillenschnaps up and took a huge swallow. She swished it about her mouth before swallowing it. She savored the warm, burning sensation and the fruity taste of apricots. She decided to sit down. Looking at Drake she replied “Oh, you know; I cannot use any transporter technology for at least the foreseeable future. Fear it will undue all the hard work that was put in to ensure my neuropathways and such function correctly. I get to have a minimum of a monthly check-up to verify my body is still doing what it is supposed to do at the subatomic level.” Here Patra let’s out a small laugh. “I feel sorry for the Doctors that have to perform that physical, definitely not the average physical.” She then sniffs, “To make matters worse, they will not know why they have to do it, other than a memorandum in my medical chart informing them they must do so, and to be sure it is directed up to Starfleet Medical Command as a priority when completed.” Patra smiled and looked at counselor Drake, “Then there are the mandatory counseling sessions for my PTSD and other mental health conditions. Again I cannot divulge why I have an increased anxiety, PTSD, and night terrors because of the ”extremely” classified nature of the mission” Here Patra made the quotation marks with her fingers when she mentioned extremely.
Counselor Drake watched Patra’s body language, she did notice the bags under her eyes and the slight tremor. The observation cameras in her quarters caught her restless sleep. She often just got up and worked on making extraordinarily beautiful cuckoo clocks, which when done she gave away free to anyone happening by her at the time. She was also driving the Chief of Engineering on the station crazy as she was constantly sneaking into Jefferies tubes and making adjustments and modifications to the inner workings of the station. She had even commandeered a small group of enlisted and ensign engineers and did a major overhaul of the shield grid, improving the efficiency by thirty-five percent, yet making the chief engineer grouchy for an entire week. Counselor Drake made her decision up. “Okay I am prescribing some medication to help with both your sleep and tremors; I am also going to have you start using a new device to help with your sleep cycle, particularly in your N3 stage and REM stages; it should help with your PTSD dreams and allow you more qualitative sleep. I am also having you placed back on active status and assigned back to an engineering slot on a starship. Any questions?” Drake watched Patra as she informed her of her decision.
Patra looked at counselor Drake, “So back to the salt mines, everyone else in agreement?”
Counselor Drake smiled, “let’s say your entire medical team is in agreement, with the exception of transporter usage. I also happen to know the senior engineering staff of the station would be in agreement. My recommendation goes up to Admiral Elton and the rest of the Admiralty. I am sure you will have orders cut with in a week or two. In the meantime we will continue sessions and see how the medications and sleep device are working.”
Back to a starship and space; about time but am I ready? thought Patra. Smiling Patra replied “Sure thing counselor. Is our session over for the morning? Have a demolition derby to drive in and afterwards a beach party to attend with my sister..”
Counselor Drake groaned internally, “Yes, we are finished for this morning. You are going to give the medical staff small coronaries with the demolition derby and remember you are supposed to be cutting down on the alcohol.”
Patra smiled, “Sure thing, promise to only have five fishbowls before I return to the station.”
Drake shook her head, “Go and enjoy your day. Remember we do not have a session tonight, but do stop by sickbay and get your sleep device and medications.”
Patra gave a mock salute “Sure thing counselor.” She then walked out of the observation lounge.

End

Lieutenant j.g. Patra Rommel
Chief Enginer and Structural/environmental Specialist
USS Wayfarer

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