Posted by Ensign MJ Shau (Security Officer) in Main Sim CNS office

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Samuel Andrew McIntyre (CNS) in Main Sim CNS office

Posted by Ensign MJ Shau (Security Officer) in Main Sim CNS office
Posted by… suppressed (7) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Lieutenant J.G. Samuel McIntyre sat alone in the Counseling Office aboard the USS Chimera, the low hum of the ship’s environmental systems barely masking the tension running through Deck Five.
The office lights were dimmed slightly, a deliberate choice. Counseling spaces were meant to calm nerves. Right now, there was precious little calm to go around.
The main display on the wall cycled through intelligence briefings on Scallax Prime.
Population: 4.2 billion.
Primary exports: dilithium refinement, heavy plasma manufacturing, and agricultural biotechnology.
Current status: Civil unrest escalating toward full planetary secession.
McIntyre leaned back in his chair, one hand rubbing the bridge of his nose as he studied the latest Starfleet Intelligence summary scrolling across the terminal.
PROTESTS ESCALATING INTO ARMED INSURRECTION.
LOCAL SECURITY FORCES FRACTURING.
FEDERATION OFFICIALS ACCUSED OF MEDICAL ABUSES.
ALLEGATIONS OF CULTURAL ERASURE AND ECONOMIC EXPLOITATION.
The door to the counseling office hissed shut behind a departing ensign who had just finished an emergency stress evaluation. Third one this morning.
McIntyre exhaled slowly.
“Hell of a mission,” he muttered to himself.

Lieutenant Jr. Grade Samuel A. McIntyre
CNS USS Chimera

Ensign Shau was almost at the Counselor’s office for his scheduled appointment.

Things have been hectic since the crew was notified about the mission. There were a lot of things to do, but MJ liked the way the crew was buckling down. The Security Department seemed to be rising to the challenge, reviewing pre-planned responses and developing additional contingency plans.

But… that was not an excuse to stop taking care of himself. The Risian had been taking steps to maintain a semblance of balance and felt like he’d been making progress. He wasn’t going to let that go easily.

Even if he would rather be working on one of the many projects in his department than taking time for a counseling session.

MJ activated the chime to announce himself.

Ensign MJ Shau - Security Officer - USS Chimera

The chime cut cleanly through the quiet hum of the corridor outside the counseling office.
Lieutenant J.G. Samuel McIntyre was already on his feet before it finished.
“Come in,” he said, voice calm, controlled.
The door hissed open.
He didn’t rush the moment. Counseling wasn’t about speed. It was about tone. About reading what people tried to hide behind posture and duty.
McIntyre gestured toward the chair across from his desk.
“Ensign Shau. Right on time.”

The Security Officer noted the Counselor’s perfunctory greeting and moved to the indicated chair. He decided not to sit until the Counselor did.

A brief pause as he took in the younger officer’s stance—disciplined, but a little tight around the edges. The kind of tension that didn’t come from fear alone, but from responsibility being carried too long without relief.
The counselor folded his hands behind his back for a moment, then sat.

Ensign Shau sat and made himself comfortable, but maintained his bearing and posture.

“I read your department’s readiness reports this morning,” he said evenly. “Security’s not just holding steady—you’re improving contingency response times. That’s not small under current conditions.”
A beat.
Then, more directly:
“But you didn’t come here to talk about operational metrics.”
McIntyre leaned slightly forward, elbows resting loosely on the desk now.
“So tell me straight—are you holding the line, or are you just staying busy so you don’t have to think about what’s coming on Scallax Prime?”
Lieutenant Jr. Grade Samuel A. McIntyre
CNS USS Chimera

One of the things MJ liked about Lt McIntyre was that he didn’t beat around the bush. While there was a time for intelligence gathering and tactical maneuvering, sooner or later you had to make the decision to engage.

Sam was not shy about that.

“I’d say I’m well aware of the mission and what’s at stake.” MJ replied after a moment’s pause. “While I am not excited about the prospect of fighting against another Federation ship, the thought of seeing some form of combat again does not seem to be a factor. Although I am well aware that it can change if the right… or rather, wrong… trigger is present.”

Ensign Shau made a wry face. That was one of the things that bothered him. He’d done well in multiple holo-sims and combat training, but he knew missions were different. Real stakes were a game-changer. No matter how good he felt… he couldn’t know how he’d do in the field until he was there.

Ensign MJ Shau - Security Officer - USS Chimera

McIntyre listened without interruption, letting the words settle in the room before responding. No nodding for effect, no unnecessary reassurance—just attention.
When MJ finished, the counselor let a short silence hang. Not uncomfortable. Intentional.
“That last part is the only honest thing you’ve said so far,” McIntyre replied.
He leaned back slightly, folding one leg over the other.
“Holo-sims don’t simulate consequences. They simulate outcomes. Clean ones. Measurable ones. You can lose a drill and still walk away intact.”
A glance toward the padd on his desk, then back to Shau.
“Scallax Prime won’t work like that. Neither will the possibility of facing Starfleet assets across a battlefield.”
His tone stayed even, but sharpened at the edges.
“You already know your protocols. Rules of engagement. De-escalation windows. Contingency escalation chains.”
A beat.
“But I’m not interested in whether you can recite them.”
McIntyre shifted forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees now.
“I’m interested in what happens when the situation stops matching the rulebook.”
He studied Shau directly.
“You said the ‘wrong trigger’ could change you. That’s the important part.”
A pause.
“Define it. For yourself. Not Starfleet doctrine. Not Security training manuals. You. What specifically is the moment where training stops being enough?”
Lieutenant Jr. Grade Samuel A. McIntyre
CNS USS Chimera

MJ’s face turned into a grimace before he could school his expression again. The only honest thing I’ve said? He waited and listened, doing his best to take in what the Counselor was saying despite his growing irritation.

When Lt McIntyre paused and asked another question, MJ let out a breath before speaking.

“No, Counselor, I think we need to pause before I answer any more questions.” He said plainly. “Let’s go back a bit, and I’ll allow you to either explain, or apologize for, implying that I’ve been lying to you.”

Ensign MJ Shau - Security Officer - USS Chimera

McIntyre didn’t react immediately. No defensiveness, no quick correction. He simply held MJ’s gaze for a moment, weighing the temperature of the room.
Then he gave a small, controlled nod.
“Fair objection.”
His tone stayed steady—professional, not softened.
“I didn’t mean you were dishonest. I chose the wrong phrasing.”
A brief pause as he adjusted the framing rather than the sentiment.
“What I meant was: you’ve been speaking from a trained position. Security analysis. Operational awareness. Controlled presentation.”
He leaned back slightly again, restoring some space between them.
“That’s not the same as personal disclosure. And I pushed past that line without making it clear I was doing it.”
A beat.
“So I’ll correct it directly: I’m not questioning your honesty. I’m separating your professional assessment from your personal reaction.”
His eyes stayed fixed, calm but firm.
“And I should have stated that before I pressed forward.”
He let that settle, then added with measured clarity:
“You’re also right to stop the conversation if you feel I crossed a boundary. That part is not just acceptable—it’s part of why this room exists.”
A slight tilt of the head.
“So we reset.”
No challenge in the world. Just procedure.
“Do you want to continue the conversation from where we were, or shift direction entirely?”
Lieutenant Jr. Grade Samuel A. McIntyre
CNS USS Chimera

MJ nodded slightly. Again, Lt McIntyre was straight forward and didn’t shy away from the issue.

“No… I think we can continue.” The Security Ensign collected his thoughts. “I think were essentially saying the same thing… just from different perspectives.,” Ye thought about what he wanted to say again… trying to clarify how he felt. “I feel fine… thinking about what might be coming doesn’t bother me. The potential for hostile action.”

Another pause.”But what does bother me is wondering how I’ll react when things get real. I know I can’t trust the sims… but now I worry I can’t trust my instincts either. I feel like I am okay… but can I really be sure? Will my training hold… or will my trauma take over?”

MJ tilted his head. “Both my personal and professional assessment is that I’m an unknown quantity. While every new Crewman or Ensign is a potential liability when they first see action… I feel like I am a greater risk. Because of my trauma… like its an added variable that other people dont have.”

Ensign MJ Shau - Security Officer - USS Chimera

McIntyre listened carefully this time, saying nothing until MJ had fully finished.
Then the counselor gave a slow nod.
“There it is,” he said quietly. “That’s the real conversation.”
He rose from his chair and moved toward the viewport, hands clasped loosely behind his back as the stars outside stretched faintly under impulse power maneuvers.
“For what it’s worth, your assessment is more grounded than you think.”
He glanced back over his shoulder.
“The officers who concern me most before combat aren’t the ones questioning themselves. It’s the ones completely convinced they already know exactly how they’ll behave.”
McIntyre turned back toward the viewport.
“Because combat exposes people. Sometimes in good ways. Sometimes ugly ones. Usually both.”
A beat passed.
“You’re treating trauma like it’s a hidden saboteur waiting to hijack your mind the second phasers start firing. That’s understandable. But trauma usually isn’t that theatrical.”
His voice remained level and clinical now.
“It’s subtler. Faster temper. Tunnel vision. Hypervigilance. Hesitation at the wrong moment. Aggression at the wrong moment. Difficulty separating present danger from remembered danger.”
He looked back toward MJ directly.
“And the important part is this: you’re already aware those possibilities exist.”
McIntyre returned to his chair but didn’t sit immediately.
“Most officers don’t identify their blind spots until after someone gets hurt.”
That line hung in the air for a second.
“You already know yours.”
Finally, he sat.
“Now comes the harder part.”
His expression sharpened slightly—not hostile, but focused.
“You need to stop framing yourself as uniquely damaged.”
A firm pause.
“Every officer who’s seen real violence carries variables into the field. Trauma. Fear. Anger. Ego. Survivor’s guilt. Overconfidence. Underconfidence.”
He folded his hands together.
“The danger isn’t having those variables.”
Another beat.
“The danger is refusing to account for them.”
McIntyre studied him carefully now.
“And from what I’m hearing, Ensign, you are accounting for them.”
A faint exhale escaped him.
“That doesn’t make you a liability. It makes you an officer who understands the weight of responsibility before the shooting starts.”
Then, after a moment:
“The question isn’t whether your trauma exists.”
His eyes narrowed slightly with thought.
“It’s whether you’ve built enough discipline around it that you can still choose your actions when the pressure hits.”
A slight tilt of his head.
“And honestly? Based on this conversation, I suspect you’ve done more work in that area than you’re giving yourself credit for.”
Lieutenant Jr. Grade Samuel A. McIntyre
CNS USS Chimera

Ensign Shau took that in for a moment. It was far more than he’d expected to hear.

MJ had come into this session thinking the biggest topic would be his budding success at getting a few Security Officers to go jetpacking in the holosuite with him. Of finally regaining a semblance of balance in his life.

This was a much more raw session, but also more impactful.

It wasn’t the first time Sam had told him his trauma wasn’t special. That while his experiences on the Pickett may have been unique, he was far from the only member of Starfleet dealing with painful memories. Dealing with trauma.

MJ was worried that his lack of fear for the upcoming mission meant he might have been overcompensating… but the Counselor highlighted that trauma could manifest in dozen different ways.

When does questioning my abilities move from healthy awareness to crippling underconfidence? To indecision in the heat of the moment?

Ensign Shau let out a breath. “I appreciate that, Sir. You asked about triggers earlier. Asked what I though could cause me to hesitate or start reacting to my trauma rather than as the mission dictates.”

MJ paused for a moment… trying to formulate the right words. “I know we’ve talked a few times about how I’m not responsible for the deaths of my friends on the Pickett, and I can accept that cognitively. But I still feel that responsibility. I havent been able to let go of that burden emotionally yet.”

He met Lt McIntyre’s eyes. “What worries me the most is… if I freeze, or get too aggressive on this mission… any injuries or casualties will be my fault. As a Security Officer I’ve been trained to make those decisions and know bad outcomes are always a possibility. But… its like that possibility takes up more head space than it used to.”

Ensign MJ Shau - Security Officer - USS Chimera

McIntyre let the silence sit for a moment—not empty, but deliberate. He kept his posture relaxed, hands loosely folded, eyes steady on Shau without pressing.
“That’s the real fear,” he said finally. “Not that you’ll fail. That you’ll doubt yourself while the situation keeps moving.”
He leaned back slightly in his chair, tone even.
“You’re describing something every trained officer runs into sooner or later. The mind starts treating every decision like it has to be perfect because it’s learned what imperfect outcomes look like.”
A pause, measured.
“But here’s the part I want you to sit with: in a tactical environment, hesitation and aggression aren’t opposites of competence. They’re both risks. The job is learning when to let training take over instead of letting prediction take over.”
His eyes stayed fixed, calm but direct.
“You said responsibility still feels personal, even when you know it isn’t. That’s important. Because it means your ethical framework is intact. But it also means you’re trying to carry outcomes that don’t belong to a single officer.”
He shifted forward slightly, voice lowering just a fraction.
“So I’m going to ask you something simple, and I want the honest answer—not the operational one.”
A beat.
“When you’re on duty and the moment comes, what do you trust more right now: your training, or your fear of being wrong?”
Lieutenant Jr. Grade Samuel A. McIntyre
CNS USS Chimera