Stepping through the airlock that connected the Athena to the Starbase, Janna felt an almost immediate wash of relief. She almost stopped mid-step but others (equally eager to disembark for R&R or whatever else might be on the agenda) forced her to keep moving. Stepping out onto the open merchant space, Kingston blended in to the surroundings of civilians and Starfleet crew. Her, the latter, in her health sciences blue uniform, could have been anyone from anywhere. Brief anonymity was nice, even if it was a bit ridiculous. After all, she lived on a massive ship with a massive crew and the Starbase wasn’t any different. But there was a different feeling on a starbase that was hard to pinpoint other than she recognized the sensation after years working on Outpost 45.

I still wouldn’t mind a smaller place, she thought as she ran a hand over her chin length blond curls, her pale green eyes scanning the busy surroundings. The psychologist in her understood that she, like many of her shipmates, were struggling in the aftermath of their last mission. Had everyone here heard about it? Certainly some of it would be classified. Or would it? She hadn’t heard word from Captain Koraia about it so far, but so many of their missions had required discretion that she was certain the Athena’s crew just expected it.

Then again, it wasn’t everyday that you saved not only your own universe, but another one as well. And lived to tell the tale.

Worn out, stressed and likely traumatized, many of her fellow shipmates were finding ways to cope. Just like she was right now. Though she herself couldn’t quite say what that coping was supposed to look at right now. Just because she was a therapist, didn’t mean she had her own life in perfect order. And so, not sure where she was going, Janna Kingston began to wander.

OOC: If you’d like to know more about Janna’s, here’s a link to her bio: https://www.star-fleet.com/core/character/125/. There’s a picture there too. :)

~Janna Kingston, Assistant CNS, USS Athena