Wakey wakey

Posted on Saturday October 4, 2025 @ 7:21am by Lieutenant Telyra Veylan PsyD.

1,415 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Days of our Lives
Location: Telyra's Quarters then Counseling
Timeline: 2424.6.19 0700 Hours

Telyra stretched out her arms & opened her eyes as she woke up due to the alarm that was going off and reached down to catch the strap connected to the soft belt around her waist, "Thank you, Computer. Turn off the alarm."

Pulling herself over to the wall, she unclipped the end and pushed off the wall, flying across to the bathroom. The low level of gravity in there caught her, and she moved over to the sink, splashing some water on her face and washing her eyes.

A quick shower was next before reaching the hooks behind the door that held a fresh counselor uniform that she had replicated the night before. The counselor slipped it on and then walked towards the replicator for breakfast.

"Computer, replicate a sippie pouch of oatmeal with apple sauce & a sippie pouch of tomato juice."

A few moments later, she reached in and grabbed the pouches before kicking off towards the table & chair, looping her leg around the table leg. Sucking on the oatmeal pouch as she tapped the data pad, which was held in place by Velcro to the table, she brought up the overnight counseling report & began running through it.

What she found was that no incidents had occurred and that the on-duty counselor had two regular appointments. Skimming the case notes, Tely found that there was nothing she had to check in on.

Signing off on the report, Tely then brought up the overnight duty reports for the ship and saw there was nothing she needed to check up on. It was the normal sort of thing, and she typed up a short addendum for the Counseling department that there were no issues, tagging in the report she had signed off on & turning off the pad.

Cracking her knuckles, Tely collected the now-empty pouches and kicked off towards the replicator, pushing them into the collection slot, before kicking off to the door.

Reaching it, the Elaysian woman picked up the crystalline exoskeleton suit hanging on its hook and, using the lack of gravity, she rotated herself and it to line up before slipping into it. Once it was in the proper position, Telyra used the door frame to line herself up and then tapped the button, which opened the door before stepping through it. As she did, her finger ran across the controls, which brought the suit into functional mode, feeling it take the load off her as she re-entered gravity.

Taking a few minutes to acclimatise, Telyra turned and headed towards the nearest turbolift. With the exoskeleton taking away the effort of gravity, it resulted in more skipping.

Arriving at the counseling offices shortly after, Telrya made her way to her office and slid behind the chair. Sitting back, she spoke, "Computer, dictate a message to the Captain. Hello, Captain. I need to schedule a counseling session for you. I do understand that you dislike counseling and that you have plenty of other ways to deal with issues. But I am following you own motto in contacting you with this. How about we do it in a different setting? Maybe in a holodeck gym or dojo? We just need to cover the mandatory Starfleet requirements only. Please let me know so I don't have to ask the Chief of Staff - I'm not sure that she really likes my attitude to life. End and send."

Taking a slow, steadying breath, Telyra flipped herself into a clean handstand, holding her balance with poise. The stretch of muscles and the controlled focus calmed her nerves, centering her mind. She had it until she felt the fog of irritation pass, then dropped lightly back to the floor, smoothing her hair behind her ears. That was when the raised voices cut through the stillness, echoing faintly from the corridor outside. Harsh words, heated tone—trouble brewing. Her brows knitted in a frown. That would not do, not on her watch.

Without hesitation, the Elaysian counselor strode to the doorway and slipped into the hall, her gait purposeful but unhurried. Ahead, two large security officers loomed, squared off like fighters about to clash. Their postures radiated tension, fists tightening, shoulders drawn high, and the low growl of their argument threatened to ignite into something far more physical. Telyra didn't need empathic senses to see it: another thirty seconds, maybe less, and the situation would explode.

She lifted two fingers to her lips and blew a sharp, piercing whistle that cracked through the noise like a disruptor shot. Both men startled, heads snapping toward her. "Both of you," she barked, her voice carrying the crisp edge of command, "snap to attention. I am the Chief Counselor of this ship, and I am not about to let you two bozos disgrace yourselves—or this crew—by brawling in the corridor."

She marched closer, heels clicking, letting the silence of their sudden pause stretch for a beat. They straightened instinctively, training forcing their spines rigid even though their faces still glowed with leftover anger. Telyra knew full well they towered over her slight frame, their bulk and height a stark contrast to her lean Elaysian build. But she held their eyes anyway, steady and unflinching, projecting authority into every inch of her presence. Now came the delicate part—whether her words and bearing could cut through the heat of their rage and remind them who, and where, they were.

Telyra let the silence hang just long enough to allow their adrenaline to taper. Then she drew in a slow breath, softened her stance, and deliberately lowered her voice a notch. "Now, let's reset. I don't care what the argument was about—you two are crewmates, not opponents in a pit fight. You're trained professionals, and right now you're behaving like cadets who can't control themselves. I am sure Lieutenant Commander Hunt would like two of his.. quite capable-looking officers to be able to work together." Her tone was firm yet even, each word carefully chosen to redirect rather than inflame.

One of the men shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking toward the deck as if caught off guard. The other huffed through his nose, still bristling, but his clenched jaw eased just slightly. Telyra picked up on the cracks in their anger and pressed forward. She folded her arms behind her back, adopting the stance of a commander during inspection. "You both know what happens when people in Security start fighting each other—it tears morale apart. You want the rest of the crew whispering about this tomorrow? Or do you want them to see you as steady, disciplined officers who can handle themselves?"

That gave them pause. Their eyes met each other for a fraction of a second—enough for her to spot the hesitation. She stepped between them now, deliberately inserting her small frame into their space, tilting her chin up so her gaze moved from one to the other. "I don't want excuses. What I do want is for each of you to take one breath. Now."

Her words came out like an order, but her tone softened at the edges, carrying a subtle undercurrent of calm. She demonstrated this first, inhaling through her nose and exhaling slowly. The men mirrored her, awkward at first, then with a bit more control. She nodded once. "Better. You feel that? That's your rational mind catching up to your fists."

The taller one finally muttered, "Sorry, ma'am." The other followed suit, his tone lower but sincere. Telyra allowed herself a faint smile, enough to let them know the worst had passed. "Good. Now, both of you will walk with me to my office, and we'll resolve this like Starfleet officers. If you'd rather do laps around the holodeck in full gear until you can't lift your arms, I can arrange that instead."

That earned a reluctant huff of laughter from one, and a smirk from the other. The tension broke, if only slightly. Telyra gestured toward the corridor with an open palm. "Come on. Let's make this productive. Nobody leaves until you can at least look at each other without wanting to throw a punch."

The two men exchanged another glance—this one more sheepish than hostile—and fell into step behind her. Telyra walked ahead, her stride purposeful. She could feel the eyes of the nearby crew who had stopped to watch, and she knew she had to set the tone: discipline, dignity, and a reminder that conflict could be handled without violence.

 

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