[G-COUN] Lt. Raissa Moonsong: Without Roots To Anchor Me (No Tags)
gemsong120
(( USS Garuda - Chief of Counseling's Office ))
Kells: =/\= This is Captain Kells to all Garuda crew. Effective immediately, the senior staff has been reassigned to the USS Invicta, along with many junior officers and enlisted personnel. Please see your department heads for details, and if you have been reassigned, report over no later than 1800 this evening to prepare for a short shakedown cruise. That is all. =/\=
“Tàikōng suǒyǒu de xīngqiú sāi jǐn wǒ de pìgu!!”
The words came out of Raissa’s mouth without warning. Had anyone been listening and able to understand the variant of pinyin Mandarin they would have been shocked and deeply embarrassed. Raissa was surprised herself.
She had managed to avoid the President’s speech as well as the reception. Not that she wasn’t interested in attending, she had wanted to. But she knew she would hear and comprehend nothing with a few hundred voices screaming for attention in her head.
She had gotten little sleep and the effect of the stimulants she took to remain upright were wearing off. The headache that had started soon after the Community left had continued to grow until it felt as if someone was rubbing smoldering coals in the inside of her skull and a little man was still there scraping the back of her eyes with a dull knife.
Raissa fought to regain her focus. What did Kells’ announcement even mean? First part. They senior staff had been reassigned. Re-assigned? USS Invicta? Never heard of it. Her hands moved over console to bring up information.
Cardiff Class Starship. Something new, apparently. She blinked. 100 officers, 180 crew and 120 civilians. Three hundred.
“Please see your department heads for details, and if you have been reassigned,” Kells had said.
She was the department head. She had to make sense of this. She rested her head in her hands. She would have to pare down the Counseling department. Any person who thought one counselor could handle the need of a smaller crew compliment was an ignorant fool. With the diversity of the crew along cultural and species lines and add multiple shifts was too much for one person. Unless of course they wanted her to go bat crap crazy.
“Gēn hóuzi bǐ diū shǐ.”
Sometimes swearing was therapeutic. Less painful and destructive than putting her fist through a wall. Counselors were not calm and serene all the time. She certainly wasn’t. She had patients she’d happily smack on the back of the head with a board.
But she was getting off point. Focus. She needed to focus. She didn’t have a lot of time. Three counselors including herself and a trainee. That would allow for pacing and rest. Counseling was exhausting. It wasn’t just talking and listening. It was walking the mindfield of individual perceptions and cultural restrictions. Sometimes it was like walking a tight-rope blindfolded and juggling knives.
She transferred the orders. She would arrange for the relevant personnel files to be transfered to the new ship as soon as she knew who was going to be there. Now she had to deal with something else.
Raissa rose from her chair and then staggered, her hands going to her head. The anxiety level on the ship had gone up. With orders flying around the ether of who stays or who goes, it was not a surprise. Just damned painful. She forced herself to breath through it. She still had to pack up her office and her quarters and get it all over to the Invicta by 1800 hours according to Kells’ announcement.
“Qīngwā cāo de liúmáng.”
((Several hours later-Astrofori 1))
Raissa stood looking out at the ships that orbited or docked with the station. But her eyes were glued to only one. She floated, silver in the starlight. A graceful bird, sleek and calm. She protected the small creatures within her with the loving care and fierce determination of a mother. She was home. A place to grow roots.
Now those roots were ripped away, bleeding fear and uncertainty. Tossed to new soil that may or may not nurture the souls within.
Raissa found her eyes filling with tears. Garuda had been her first ship. Her first home. Now she had to leave. Transfers were an inherent part of being in Starfleet. You went where you were needed. It did not make the loss any easier.
Her voice was a whisper of sound.
“Goodbye my dearest… may you always fly free…”
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Lt. Raissa Moonsong
Chief of Counseling
USS Invicta