Posted by Ensign Mavis Harmon (Engineer) in Checking in with the CNS
Ensign Marvis Harmon had just finished with the doctor and headed to the counselors office. As he was heading that way he ran into the turbolift. Shortly after he stepped on. “Counselors office.” The turbolift had taken off and was happy that he’s been taking care of all his check ins in one day. The turbolift had stopped and he stepped off. He then started to walk to the counselors office and rang the chime.

Ensign Mavis Harmon
Engineering Officer
USS Ark Angel

The soft chime at the door drew Cross’ attention from the padd resting in his hand. He looked up briefly, then set it aside on the desk before rising smoothly to his feet.

“Enter.”

The doors parted with a quiet hiss, revealing the Counselor’s office beyond.

It did not resemble the sterile, over-polished counseling suites found on many starships. Warm amber lighting softened the room instead of the usual clinical white. Along the left side sat a recessed conversational area built around a deep sectional couch and two armchairs arranged naturally rather than with forced precision. A low wooden table rested between them, its surface holding an old-fashioned ceramic tea set and a small bowl of pralines imported from New Orleans.

The faint scent of chicory coffee and sandalwood lingered subtly in the air.

Against one wall hung framed images of old Earth New Orleans—rain-slick streets beneath glowing lanterns, wrought-iron balconies draped in vines, musicians frozen mid-performance in a jazz square. Soft instrumental jazz played quietly enough to almost disappear beneath the ambient hum of the ship.

Cross himself stepped out from behind his desk as Ensign Harmon entered.

Tall and composed, the counselor carried himself with an easy steadiness that never quite drifted into formality. Dark eyes studied the young engineer briefly—not invasive, simply observant.

“Ensign Harmon,” he said warmly, motioning further inside. “Welcome aboard the Ark Angel.”

He gestured toward the recessed seating area rather than the desk.

“Make yourself comfortable wherever you’d like. Coffee, tea, water?” A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth. “I make a respectable cup of café au lait if you’re willing to trust a counselor with engineering-grade responsibilities.”

Lieutenant Alex Cross
Chief Counselor
USS Ark Angel