T’Aria departed Sickbay with a final farewell to the ship’s counsellor, taking a brief note of her list in her drift to the nearest turbolift. She’d boarded with a stringent plan designed for optimal efficiency. But on a ship full of emotional creatures - herself included - she quickly realised a schedule was little more than an inhibition.

Regarding her PaDD with a slight scoff, T’Aria clicked it and stepped into the ‘lift beside a young, red-shirted Ensign. “Afternoon,” she greeted with a curt nod.

“Afternoon, Commander.” He reciprocated and took a step back to allow space between them. “Where to?”

“The bridge.” She snaked her hands behind the small of her back in a gesture she’d manifested into a habit. Their ride was short, albeit quaint. She exchanged brief pleasantries with the Ensign - name, position, where he was from - and bade him farewell as soon as the doors peeled open and he disappeared down deck 4.

When she reached the bridge, she stepped out, and to conn officer, she asked plainly: “Permission to step onto the bridge?” It was a formal gesture, but she felt it was the barrier between life in medicine and life in command.

– T’Aria, incoming XO