Most officers preferred to hit the counselor last, their lack of desire to have their minds poked and prodded by metaphorical needles an excuse Eshrallias understood. Today, she was not one of those officers. Throughout the past several months, she had been subject to the proverbial torture of infirmary psychiatrists searching for the residual effect of trauma on the mind. In her rigidity, they were fruitless. By her experience, Vheris found she had little resent for the mandatory evaluations given by the ship’s counselor. To her, it appeared nothing more than a chat..at least, in comparison to her prior appointments.

Once the chime had been pressed, Vheris stepped back, as if someone were going to answer the door. In thought, she folded her arms securely over her chest–a habit she had picked up over the years. Some had considered it to be an act of comfort, but she hadn’t been given the reason to believe that it could be. She was, after all, Andorian and by their stubborn pride, admitting any flaw (such as requiring comfort in new or unsettling situations) was to be imposing fault in their poise.

Lt. Cmdr. Eshrallias, CSO