The Grand Tour, Medical/Counseling, Part 2

Posted on 05 Aug 2025 @ 8:30am by Lieutenant JG Halux-denari-vettaliin & Lieutenant Commander Riah Amberlyn XMD

2,591 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Assignment: Arawyn
Location: Medical/Counseling Suite, USS Arawyn
Timeline: Immediately following Part 1
Tags: medical, counseling, tour, meeting

Continued from Part 1

// Medical/Counseling Suite :: USS Arawyn //

Snip
“I try not to use the word ‘crazy,’” he said gently, with the kind of tone that invited reflection, not correction. “It’s a little too often used to describe the things people feel most deeply, just because others don’t understand them yet. And I certainly don't think you are.”
End Snip

Halux’s expression softened, one brow raising slightly, “What you described? That connection to place, to purpose? That’s not madness. That’s resonance. It means you're exactly where you're supposed to be. And I think, perhaps, the ship knew it before you did.”

There was no teasing in his voice -- just something quietly steady, like the foundation beneath a home that hadn’t yet been fully built.

"I think that is very possible," she agreed, her respect for this man growing along with her affection for the ship. "And yeah, you're right about crazy. It is often used in a negative connotation. My mom suffered from BiPolar Disorder. My dad always said she was actually a genius and only acted with crazy behavior. Thanks for that reminder. Careless turn of phrase, I guess. Shall we move on?" Maybe this was getting a little too personal and she really didn't want to go there.

Halux offered a soft nod, his expression gentling at the mention of her mother. There was something in Riah’s tone—honest, but guarded now, the way people sometimes shift when memory brushes too close. He didn’t press. That wasn’t his role here. Not yet.

“I’m glad you shared that,” he said simply. “And for what it’s worth, I think genius and complexity often arrive hand in hand.”

He let the moment sit for just a breath longer before shifting his posture slightly, opening the conversational space she’d just nudged toward. “Lead the way. I promise to keep the philosophizing to a minimum until we reach the break room.”

They explored the adjoining intensive care area, which moving through another, as yet inoperative antimicrobial screening room, to an area of offices that included that of the CMO to the left, and two other offices shared by the other physicians on staff.

"That's my office,” she waved a hand to allow him to peek inside. “I’m not sure how I feel about a round office, but hey, I think I can get used to it. These two next-door are for the 3 other physicians on staff. Across there is the pharmacy. Most things can be replicated, but what can't is stored in this refrigerated section. Down this hallway to the left is your counseling suite. Let's take a look."

“Circular office might grow on you,” he offered gently. “Less like a corner and more like a conversation.” His tone was light, but there was something contemplative under the words—as if he was thinking not just about walls, but about spaces that made people feel safe.

"That's a unique observation. I always have loved yoga classes held in a circle instead of everyone lined up in rows. You are good for me. Helping me remember things about myself that I've misplaced or buried. I can see why you are good at your day job," she said.

Halux took in the space as they moved, quietly attentive. The layout was impressively deliberate, a thoughtful flow from triage to recovery to the core of medical operations. It struck him how alive it all felt, even before the full rhythm of daily use had set in. Like the ship was ready, waiting. He glanced toward her office as they passed, letting the curve of its walls register in his periphery.

At the mention of his suite, he turned his attention fully, falling into step beside her again.

“Down the hallway, tucked a little apart from Sickbay,” he said, almost to himself. Then a small nod, thoughtful. “That’s good. That distance matters more than people admit.” His voice carried no judgment -- just quiet certainty. He didn’t elaborate right away, choosing instead to follow her lead, eyes already scanning ahead toward the space that would become his own. Not just a set of office spaces. A sanctuary.

"Good. Glad you feel that way. I was afraid they might put counseling in the middle of a busy infirmary. It's hard enough to come deal with therapy or counseling of any kind without having to fight your way through a gambit of people and noise. Infirmaries are not known for their silence. Which is why I value my time away from it so much. "What do you do for fun, for non-business, Halux?" They moved deeper into the space, peeking into different rooms and offices. She was liking Halux Denari. He was like the curled frond of a fern in a lush forest, opening willingly, but not intrusively.

“Exactly,” he said. “Therapy shouldn’t feel like triage.” Halux’s smile warmed at her reply, pleased by the shared understanding. It was rare to find someone outside the counseling field who not only recognized the need for quiet but championed it. The ship, it seemed, may have a way of drawing people with complementary rhythms. He appreciated this greatly.

As they moved through the corridor, peeking into rooms that still smelled faintly of new construction and sterile sealants, he gave her question the consideration it deserved. His gaze drifted briefly to one of the still-unlit sconces on the wall before answering.

“I keep a small herb garden—portable, of course. Nothing too invasive.” A faint grin curved his mouth. “They travel better than most people I know. I find tending to something small, green, and alive helps keep me grounded. And they know how to hold a good conversation. Most of them are medicinal or ceremonial—plants with stories of their own. Oh, and a number of wonderful herbal teas.” He glanced at her. “I also collect stories. Folktales, idioms, metaphorical frameworks. The stranger the culture, the more fascinating the lens. There's something revealing in the way a people choose to explain the rain, or why the stars move. Even lies told for comfort hold a kind of truth, if you listen closely enough.”

He paused in the doorway of one office, eyes sweeping the dimensions like a painter surveying a blank canvas. “And I sing, sometimes. Not well, but sincerely. What about you? How does a busy doctor unwind without turning it into a project?”

As he moved slightly to the right, she peeked into the room around his shoulder. "I like this room. Good energy. I think I would pick this for my office. Course we haven't looked at them all. I've not been back here yet." She stepped around him now and moved across the walkway to check out another room. "I bet some of those herbs are from Denobula. Am I right?"

He turned slightly to watch her cross the walkway, a quiet ease in his posture as she explored. “Yes, some of the herbs are from Denobula. A few are used in traditional calming brews, others in ceremonies meant to promote clarity or focus. One of them, telari root, was planted by my father and passed through a few cuttings to me. Grows best when it hears conversation, or so he always said.”

"I know them because I studied Energy Medicine there for about 6 months while I was training in the Academy. I had my medical degree already, so I did some specialized training in my own personal interests, which was Energy transference in terms of enhanced, accelerated healing. Denobula was a natural for that. My other specialty is xenobiology as it applies to medicine. I even thought about xeno-veterinary medicine, but that would have been another 1.5 years, and I had an offer on a ship, so I took it instead. But I could spay your cat, if need be, or deliver a litter of puppies," she laughed. "But back to your question about unwinding. I do yoga and qigong when I need to wind down, martial arts katas if I need to burn off energy. For fun, I write poetry and paint...with real oil paint and a brush."

Halux’s expression shifted, genuine interest deepening into something close to admiration as she spoke. He turned slightly to face her more fully, arms loosely crossed, one brow raised just enough to signal both curiosity and a quiet sort of delight. “Energy medicine on Denobula,” he echoed thoughtfully. “That’s no small path to walk. You’ve probably studied techniques even most Denobulans only hear about from their grandparents.”

“You paint. That doesn’t surprise me. You speak like someone who sees shapes in the spaces between words.” His smile widened just slightly, then softened again as he tilted his head at her. A pause, not heavy—just enough time for meaning to land. “I’d enjoy reading your poetry sometime. If you ever feel like sharing.”

"I''d love to share. I'll send a few your way. You let me know what you think," she replied, pleased to have found someone that also knew about energy healing and with at least a curiosity about poetry. "Do you write, poetry or prose? You strike me as someone who has thought things through very thoroughly, and often that takes the form of putting it down on paper, or perhaps a journal. Not that I'm suggesting you share your journal, but I write a lot, some of it creative writing, some of it reflective rambling, sometimes I call it blind blathering." Her laugh was warm and inviting.

Halux’s eyes crinkled slightly at her laughter, and he gave a small nod, appreciative—not just of her openness, but of the warmth behind it. “I wouldn’t call myself a creative writer,” he said, voice even. “Not in the way you are. I do keep a journal—more for clarity than for craft. Just quiet observations, patterns I notice, thoughts I need to untangle.”

He paused, considering.

“Occasionally I write papers, when something gets under my skin in a good way. Behavioral patterns across cultures, language habits that shape emotional expression... that sort of thing. Academic, mostly. But I suppose even that’s a kind of storytelling, just with citations.” His smile curved, dry and self-aware. “I admire people who can shape a thought into something beautiful on purpose. I tend to trip over beauty accidentally.”

"I suspect your papers are excellent storytelling. Your creativity is just aimed in a slightly different direction. A lot of mine goes to healing and preventing illness and injury. Yours goes into helping people express their hearts, their very souls. That's pretty damn creative if you ask me. And you have already expressed a great sensitivity for the creative process in your comments about our department and just our conversation. I wouldn't consider sharing my poems with someone I just met if I didn't feel they had a great capacity to relate to them." She winked. "What else is there in this suite?" she asked stepping into an space clearly designed for reception and a waiting area. "Looks like we entered Counseling by the back door and are getting to the front door," she observed.

"That's very kind of you to say, Doctor," Halux said, glancing toward the primary entrance to the counseling suite—a space he hadn’t yet approached from this angle.

It was understated by Starfleet standards, which he appreciated. No bold signage or bright colors; instead, a softly illuminated placard read "Counseling & Behavioral Services" in Federation Standard. The entrance itself was a standard doorway, recessed slightly from the main corridor wall, framed by matte silver paneling and a narrow band of warm lighting just above the threshold. The lighting shifted subtly through the day cycle—bright enough to feel welcoming, never harsh. A gentle chime would sound when the doors opened, lower and softer than the standard swoosh of a bulkhead. Intentional. Inviting.

Inside the threshold, a modest reception alcove greeted visitors—just a single curved desk where the department's yeoman would sit, built low and wide to avoid an imposing presence. Along one wall, a living moss panel offered natural color, interspersed with small, blooming vines—a small touch specifically requested by the Denobulan. A simple start, he planned on creating a lush and inviting green space within his department for visitors to enjoy. Nearby, a narrow shelving alcove held small objects from various cultures: a Vulcan serenity stone, a Bajoran prayer wheel, a glass sculpture in the Andorian style, and several others.

The flooring softened underfoot as they stepped closer, absorbing the quiet rhythm of their steps with a subtle give that felt more like walking on forest moss than starship plating. Overhead, the lighting dimmed by a fraction—not dark, just calmer—like the ship itself was taking a breath. Behind them, the faint hum of the corridor softened, receding as though the room were gently closing a door on the rest of the ship.

“That’s how I’d want it to feel,” Halux murmured, mostly to himself. “Like the atmosphere shifts just enough that your nervous system notices before your mind does.”

He looked toward Riah with a quiet smile. “It’s a start.”

"Sounds like a good one," said Riah, inspecting the wall of mossy plants. "I'll come calm down here with these trebiaxika. I swear they just expel oxygen and peace."

Halux smiled at the mention of the trebiaxika, his eyes drifting to the soft green curls of the plant as if they might respond to the praise.

“They’re temperamental travelers, but surprisingly generous when they take root,” he said. “Denobulan horticulturists used to say their leaves pick up on emotional dissonance—curl tighter when there’s stress in the room. No one’s proven it, of course. But no one’s disproven it either.”

He turned his gaze back to Riah, the smile still lingering, “Maybe that’s why I keep them close. They remind me to breathe.”

"I like the soft sole on the floor, too. That makes a big difference. I had them put in resilient flooring in Sickbay too, but it's not as spongy, but has a lot of give. Helps with standing for long hours though. Maybe I can retire my rubber clogs around here. You getting hungry? I'll spring for lunch in the cafeteria," she offered. "Or would you rather just sit here and feast on your new space?"

Halux offered a warm, appreciative smile, his gaze lingering on the moss panel and the quiet calm of the space around them.

“That’s a generous offer, and I’ll take you up on it—soon,” he said with a nod. “But I think I need a little time to...listen to this space. Let it tell me what it needs. What I need from it.”

He glanced back at her, sincere. “I don’t want to brush off the invitation—I’d enjoy your company. But I'll absolutely take a rain check, Doctor. Something tells me we're going to get along quite well.” As he spoke, the corners of his mouth pulled wide into that unmistakable Denobulan grin—genuine, expressive, and just a touch mischievous. It was the kind of smile that didn’t just say thank you—it said I see you, and I’m glad we’ve met.

=/\= End Log =/\=

Lt. Cmdr. Riah Amberlyn
Chief Medical Officer

Lt(JG) Halux
Head Counselor

 

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