Ian paced outside the Brig waiting for Rinker. His body was being fueled at the moment by high octane emotions. The end of Jessa’s session with Rinker was brutal. He could not deny a part of his anger was with Jessa and her outburst towards Rinker. It was probably not uncommon for patients to lash out at their therapist but to Ian, Jessa not only crossed a line but obliterated it with photon torpedos. Even though he had apologized for the confrontation, it didn’t help to ease the embarrassment, Bordeaux felt about it.

The more he paced, the more he let his mind drift to all the other things that were pissing him off. The theological fascists of the Galactic Union, Jessa’s mother, and the people in the brig held the brunt of his anger. Ian had no idea if Rinker wanted to see all three Elders as a group or individually. He would leave that up to the counselor. He was only there to listen and try to glean any information out of the conversations about to be had to figure out first what was actually going on and second to try and understand how Jessa became the way she was. Glancing down at his wrist, Ian checked his watch again. Rinker was not late. Ian was just early.

Ian Bordeaux