Nicholas walked up to the Starfleet counselling centre. As he was taking it all in, he was interrupted by someone asking “Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes. Boarding evaluation, James, Nicholas S. Chief Intelligence Officer.” As if unphased by the cold distance Nicholas presented, the same voice said “Well, I’m Dr Christine Walker, if you’ll just step into this room over here, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right with you.”

A few moments later she appeared and sat down in front of Nicholas. “So, I tried to pull your records. That’s just standard procedure. What’s odd is that most of your records are redacted. Well, not most. Nearly all. Especially early in your career.”
“I don’t make those decisions, Intelligence decides what doctors need to know.”
“Is your entire life on a ‘need to know basis?’” Dr Walker asked. Nicholas didn’t respond by way of an answer. “Right. So, it would be fair to say you lead an insular life?”
“Yes.” Christine flinched a little. “This isn’t an interrogation. Whatever you say doesn’t leave this room, my report will probably be redacted down to a single line.” There was a lengthy silence. “Being alone is a necessity of my work. One I’m resigned to. What I am is not conducive to friends, family.”
“Do you speak to your parents?”
“Not anymore.”
“Why is that?”
“Another necessity. Everyone is better off this way.”
“How long has it been?”
“11 years.”
“And-and you’re ok with that?”
“When you join Intelligence, they rip out your soul and make you into the perfect officer and operative.”
“My god…”
“I don’t regret it Dr Walker. Any of it.”
“I evaluated the last CIO, he wasn’t like this.”
“Trained differently, I suppose.”
“Cmdr, I see a lot of people dealing with trauma who try to suppress it, shut out people who want to help.”
“I can believe that. But 11 years ago, I was still in the Academy. My severed familial ties are by choice.”
“If you’re certain.”
“I am. And they likely wouldn’t want to see me.”
“You don’t know that Nicholas.” No one had called him by his first name in a long time.