RP Log: Visiting the Counselor
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| 2024-09-04 13:06 | |
- Counselor's Office -- U.S.S. Kestrel
Svetzvani is sitting at the counselor's desk. Not her office, but apparently not anyone else's office either, so why not?
Hauser comes in and smiles. "Hello admiral. or should I say, counselor?" Her demeanor is open and forthcoming.
Svetzvani gives her visitor a smile. "Titles are ok," she says. "But there are no ranks in this room. Please come in, have a seat."
Hauser grabs a chair. "Well most people call me Jessica. It's kind of you to spend some time with us. Do you ever miss being a ship's counselor? I mean, being a flag officer and all?"
"Of course I do," Tink says. "When I first studied psychology, it was with the intention of counseling people, helping them deal with their issues so they can be the best version of themselves they can be in their daily lives. But for the past... very many years... I've used it at the negotiating table instead. Still a valid application, but not the one I had in mind all those years ago. Would you like something from the replicator?"
"Nah, I ate before coming down here," Hauser says. "We've transferred Lieutenant Moncyu to DS9, since we have to go back to the Gamma Quadrant soon." She thinks. "That was one hell of an away mission. I wasn't sure we'd make it out of there until we did."
Svetzvani nods. "I read the reports," she says. "It seems like it was a rather harrowing experience."
Hauser nods. "Eiessa ... you know what? I've been thinking about it, and much as I'll miss her, I'm proud of her. Her death gave us a chance to escape, and she gave her life for people who, honestly, wouldn't have done the same for her. Her death had a purpose, and I hope mine has as much of a purpose if I have to lay it down like that."
"I've been reading her personnel file," Tink says. "Did you know that she, like you, comes from a family with a history of Starfleet service?"
Hauser shakes her head. "I didn't know her as well as I could have," Hauser says. "I'm sorry about that now. You just figure you'll have time to ... anyway, we didn't talk about our families much. I mean, everyone sorta knows about mine but, you know what I mean."
Svetzvani nods. "I know what you mean. But my point is that Starfleet service is something she grew up with. It's something she undoubtedly knew a lot about long before she ever went to the academy. And it's something that was clearly very important to her. When you put those things together, it means that when she died, she did so while doing precisely the thing she wanted to be doing with her life, knowing what it all meant to her, to her family, and to others."
Hauser nods. "Even more reason to be proud of her," she says. "She was always helpful and kind to me. You see, I've been studying for my line certification, and she was on bridge watch a few times when I was put in the chair, and I was on bridge duty when she had the chair. Always had a smile ready."
Svetzvani leans back in her chair and fold her hands in her lap with her elbows on the chair's armrest. "Well, that certainly sounds like someone who loved her job," she notes. "Which would be consistent with everything else I've been reading about her." She pauses for a moment or two, then asks, "How are you feeling now? About Lieutenant Moncyu, I mean. About what happened."
"I'm sad I don't have more time to get to know her, but actually," Hauser says. She pauses, "But truth be told, I'm a little worried about Commander Worthington."
"Go on," Tink says, giving Hauser a small, encouraging nod.
Hauser sighs. "This is confidential, right? I mean, I know you're an admiral, and a counselor too, which is different."
Svetzvani takes a moment to answer. "I'm here to provide counseling," she explains. "If anything you or someone else says during a counseling session convinces me that some kind of harm or crime is eminent, then I have to report it, as always. But otherwise, nothing you say will leave this room."
Hauser nods. "One thing I've been studying of late, as you will know, is command decisions. Sometimes there aren't any great choices, and you can't always take a lot of time to map out in advance which one is going to be absolutely perfect. But you see, Captain Anewan wanted my opinion as an almost line officer, like, what did I think of how the whole thing went down. And the thing I keep coming back to is just this. She went out there alone. The commander didn't order anyone else to go, but he didn't ask for volunteers, and he didn't go himself. Maybe that was the right call! But, " she breaks off. Sighing, she goes on, "All I can think is, shouldn't someone have gone out there with her. Roped up, you know, like a buddy system. Would that have guaranteed she came back alive? No. Might we be planning two or three funerals instead of one? Maybe. but could she have come back alive? Maybe so, and that's what's eating at me ma'am. She went out into that sandstorm alone."
Svetzvani leans forward, transfering her elbows from the armrests of her chair to the edge of the desk, hands still folded together. "If you're looking for an answer from me about whether or not sending Lieutenant Moncyu out there alone was the right command decision, I can't help you. I could tell you my opinion about it as a command qualified officer, but that's not what I'm here for, and ultimately, that's not what this is about. This is about whether or not /you/ feel it was the right or wrong thing to do, and how you deal with what that means to you, whichever direction you're leaning on that issue."
"That's just it," Hauser says. "I wish I could say, well it was clearly right, or it was clearly wrong. I can't say that yet. But I'm worried that Command is going to decide that Commander Worthington shouldn't have sent her out alone. I mean, damned if you do, damned if you don't." A beat. "But if it had been me," she goes on more quietly, "I think I would have told Moncyu that it was a volunteer mission. I know she would have volunteered to go. No question. But I would have asked if someone would go with her out there, and if no one had volunteered, I think I would have gone myself. I think that's what I would have done."
Svetzvani says, "Then what you're saying is that you think Commander Worthington made the wrong choice."
Hauser closes her eyes. "Dammit, I hate this. He's been training me these past few months, and he put me through this practical command scenario. I think it was supposed to be a no win situation, but it wasn't." She grins fleetingly. "And there was a shipboard fire after the first part with the Romulans, and I had to give orders that led to the deaths of two crewmen in the test. No question it was the right call. it was lose them or lose the whole ship including them. So it was hard, but it was clear and it was right, and it was still just a test."
Svetzvani nods once, then sighs. "You know, in professional interactions, especially high stress ones, individuals tend to form their own opinions about the best ways to accomplish their collective goals. Generally, this is a good thing. It's the reason why we have specialists in this field or that one, and why we collaborate, bounce ideas off of each other in an effort to find the best path forward." A slight pause. "But after an event takes place, when the outcome of those efforts are anything less than ideal, especially in a command structure where lives are at risk, it'se very easy for us to see the differences between the decisions that were made by the person in command, the actions that were taken based on those decisions, and the ideas or alternatives that we ourselves may have chosen if we had been in that commander's place. The temptation is to imagine how things might have been better if our own ideas, our own opinions, had carried more weight in the decision making process. But the problem is that we can't know what might have been if our own ideas were put into action. And when we couple that unknowable possibility with the very knowable, and in this case painful, facts of what actually did happen, those commander's decisions can quickly start to feel to us like they were entirely the wrong decisions, when in actuality they are simply different than the ones we ourselves might have made if we had been in their position."
Hauser nods. "Exactly. I mean, I think I follow exactly what you're saying. Commander Worthington's decision might have been different from the one I would have made. But different might not mean that his decision was wrong and mine would have been right. Right? That is what you're saying, isn't it? Just different."
"Mostly, yes," Tink confirms. "But also that the only way to know for sure that someone, in this case Commander Worthington, made a wrong decision, would be to know with complete certainty that a different decision would have had a better outcome. And since we can't possibly know that, we have to be careful about assigning labels like right decision, and wrong decision, to these types of situations. Sometimes, it's easy to see that someone made a right or wrong decision. This, I'm afraid, isn't one of those."
Hauser nods. "And that's what Command is going to have to decide, I guess," she says. "I mean, I'm sure someone somewhere has to review it and say, ok, I might not have done it that way, but he wasn't wrong. or, yeah, I would probably have done the same thing, and he wasn't wrong. As opposed to a situation where there was a clearcut better choice, and I don't think there was one here ... am i making sense?"
Svetzvani gives a sly smile. "You are," she says. "But you're also getting off the topic. Like I said before, this isn't about whether James Worthington's decision was right or wrong. At least not in the eyes of Starfleet Command. It's about whether it was right or wrong in Jessica Hauser's eyes, and how Jessica Hauser deals with that belief. Because if Eiessa Moncyu died after James Worthington made the right decision in Jessica Hauser's eyes, then Jessica Hauser has to deal with that in a very different way than she would if Eiessa Moncyu had died because James Worthington made the wrong decision in Jessica Hauser's eyes." She gives a little wink. "And how's that for a twisty ride?" she asks.
Hauser laughs, relaxing. "You are so a counselor!" She says. But she thinks about it. "How's this for splitting a hair, because what I think is this. I think he made the right decision, but in the wrong way. I think there's no possible way he could not have not sent her out there. She had to go. She was the best one to go, because she had her Betazoid abilities and she thought that they, along with a tricorder could help her do the job. And she was right. I mean, I don't know what telepathy she used out there, but she had the tool and I'm sure she tried to use it. So I agree, she had to go. But I still say someone should have gone out there with her, even a volunteer. So I think I would have done the same thing, big picture, but the details would be different. I'm not mad at him. I don't envy him one little bit having to make those choices under those circumstances."
"Then what you're saying is that you believe he didn't do everything he could have, or maybe should have, to insure Eiessa's safety, and she died," Tink suggests.
Hauser thinks about that for a long beat, and then nods slowly. "I think that's a fair assessment," she says. "I think there were things that could have been tried, either on the front end, sending out a buddy, or on the back end, maybe trying to retrieve her, that might have made a positive difference. And that's what bothers me," she says. "But since I don't know for sure that different actions would have had different results, I have to hold that conclusion lightly, if that makes sense. it's a maybe." Hauser adds, "I feel like I just stepped into a sort of command scenario final exam." She grins. "Eiessa would laugh at me if she were here I think."
"Sure, that's a maybe," Tink says. "But believe it or not, we also just made progress. You're admitting that you think more could have been done, but wasn't. So, when you get down to it, that's really what you're dealing with. The loss of your colleague, your friend, under circumstances that you feel were mishandled." She leans forward a little farther. "Well, it's okay to feel that way. You're not doing James Worthington a disservice."
Hauser nods. "So, I guess the thing for me to do is learn from that and, when it's my turn, make a better call, whatever that is."
Tink smiles. "I'm sure you'll always make the best call you can anyway," she says. "But if you can learn from this, and remember it at a time in the future when you find yourself in a similar command situation, and that memory helps you to make a decision that saves lives, then Eiessa didn't die just to save the people on that shuttle. She also died to save people she didn't even know existed." She turns the computer monitor on the desk around so Hauser can see the screen. It's showing Eiessa Moncyu's personnel file, including a photograph of her face. "Personally," Tink says. "I can't imagine a better way to honor the life and sacrifice of this dedicated officer. Can you?"
Hauser smiles proudly, looking at the picture. After a respectful beat she says, "You only left out one thing," A beat. "I shouldn't assume I have all the time in the world to get to know my shipmates. Maybe that chance to have a drink at Quarks, maybe that chance won't come again. In Eiessa's case, it didn't come again."
"That's true as well," Tink agrees simply.
Hauser nods slowly. "I guess we don't get to take her home," Hauser says. "Not if we're going back to the GQ right away, which I am told we are."
Svetzvani shakes her head. "No, I'm afraid you have to get back to the Gamma Quadrant," she says. "We'll take care of Eiessa. Unless you complete your mission quickly enough, that is."
"No telling on that one," Hauser says. She stands, comes round, and hugs you unself-consciously. "Thanks for talking with me. I really appreciate it."
Svetzvani smiles. "If you need to talk more when you get back from the GQ, I'll try to arrange it."
"Assuming we're in a talking capacity," Hauser says. "That Burrower ship looks very mean, and it's supposedly a baby. I'd just as soon not meet it at Stakaran."
Svetzvani nods. "It's a concern, for sure," she agrees. "I'm hoping that, since they seem to have left the Kestrel alone so far, even when they most assuredly were aware of you, maybe they'll continue to leave you alone. But who can say for sure?"
"No one," Hauser says. "Or more accurately, they could say." She winks. "We'll be careful. I'd better get back downstairs and see what's in store for me."
Svetzvani says, "Good luck, Jessica."