The corridor outside the counselor’s office was quiet, with only the low hum of the ship underfoot and the occasional muffled hiss of a distant door opening. Dr. Edelu paused there—not out of hesitation, but out of habit. The Mintakan way was to observe before acting. And though Federation culture leaned more toward efficiency than contemplation, some instincts refused to be unlearned.

He adjusted the edge of his medical coat, simple and traditional in its tailoring. A visible badge of belonging, and yet still a symbol of distance—of a journey traveled farther than most Starfleet physicians would ever imagine.

He had read what was available about Lieutenant Junior Grade Vanessa Slade. South Boston roots. Big family. Big energy. No patience for nonsense. The kind of person who probably made her patients talk even when they didn’t mean to. He imagined her office smelled like burnt espresso and lavender hand lotion.

He didn’t mind that.

The real question, as always, was whether she would mind him—a Mintakan, trained off-world, charting a life far beyond what his own people still believed possible. He had met counselors who recoiled at his logic, or tried to coax out trauma where none had been claimed. But something about Slade’s file told him she didn’t deal in fragility. She dealt in real.

That, at least, they would have in common.

He stepped forward and tapped the chime, his voice smooth and even:

“Lieutenant Commander Edelu, reporting for onboarding psychological clearance.”

Then he waited, standing at ease, expression composed—ready to face the first of what would be many first impressions aboard the Genesis.

-Lt. Cmdr. Edelu
Chief Medical Officer