Sam patted the arm of young Eloise Assa, an operations ensign newly assigned to the ship a few months ago. “You’re very brave, just so you know,” he said, his arm linked through hers.

She shook her head but said nothing, her silence as much resignation as disagreement.

But the lounge host knew that once she was in the right hands, that things could get better for her. That was the part of his job that he hadn’t quite factored in when he first started: the ability for people to talk to a willing ear who was not in uniform or in their chain of command. Thus Sam had learned all sort of things about people that he never expected to, including things that concerned him. At first, he was just thinking that Eloise was having a rough transition, but today it became apparent that something that happened and she was struggling. So after a little bit of chatting he convinced her to go talk to the counselling staff. Except that she hadn’t wanted to go, so he suggested that he could go along with her if it would make it easier. She had said yes.

So here they were, stepping off the turbolift when the ship shook hard and a loud explosion could be heard as if it was close by. Eloise screamed as the two were knocked off their feet. If there was anywhere safer on a medical ship other than the two medical centres, it was going to be a psychiatry wing full of people of whom many were also MDs. But it was near the other end and they were mid-deck. He pushed himself to his knees, feeling an ache throughout the front of his body, and crawled over to Eloise who was curled up on the deck in a ball, shaking. “Hey, Eloise, it’s going to be okay.” She just whimpered. “GALEN, please summon someone from Psychiatry to Deck 7, Section 18.”

“Calling Psychiatry.”

In the office portion of the Psychiatry wing, the explosion had been felt as well, but was well away from the damage. =/\=Attention Psychiatry. Emergency response required, Deck 7, Section 18.=/\=

~Sam, Host of Florence’s