Paths and Steps

Posted on Sat Apr 12th, 2025 @ 2:50pm by Petty Officer 1st Class Leon Inaros

2,568 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: To Boldly Go
Location: Chief Counselor's Office
Timeline: MD 08 - 17:35

[ON]

Steele's office looked more like someone's sitting room than anything else. An oriental carpet anchored by a wing chair with an antique end table and a extraordinarily comfortable loveseat dominated the room. A credenza on the wall opposite the door held a coffee and tea service and the wall to the right was filled, floor to ceiling with books, the shelves using a rail to hold them in place in the event of turbulence. No desk, no computer, and nothing to make it appear as though this were a clinical setting. The art work on the wall above the credenza was an original and the cluster of smaller works above on the wall where the entrance was were all gifts from former patients, line drawings mostly, of him, of themselves, of places they'd been. Lighting in the room came from table lamps to provide warm glow rather than the cold sterility of the overheads. At the moment, Steele, dressed in his Starfleet uniform, was sitting in the blue wing back chair, that matched part of the rug's pattern, as did the throw pillows on the love seat, reading from a PADD he held in one hand while he balanced a mug of coffee in the other.

Outside the office, Leon Inaros was frowning. He had done counselling before. Marine counselling and regular Fleet was different. Different objectives. Both made sure that the ones that served weren't likely to get everyone and themselves killed. In his mind though, the difference was the approaches. Like everything else. His uniform was impeccable, even if he was just a Petty Officer 1st class and his hair was tied back from his face. Even the boots were shiny. Yet he felt tired and shifted his weight awkwardly for a moment. He knew a lot of his issues were in his head. And this was his first posting, as a nurse anyway.

He rang the chime and looked around, tensing when a pair walked past him, laughing between them at some joke about protons. He had to get used to that too...the explorers and the dreamers.

"Please, come in," Aristede said as he set his cup on a coaster and rose smoothly to his feet. He walked the PADD over to the bookcase and slid it into place with a wooden box, so that the device could stand upright, easily accessible, without disturbing any of the books. That done, he returned to stand in front of his chair while his next appointment entered.

Leon entered and met the man's eyes, his own oddly blank. He had fallen into the more military stance and went to stand at something close to attention. "Petty Officer 1st Class Leon Aquilo Inaros reporting for counselling, Sir."

"As you were, Petty Officer," Aristede said as he waved him toward the loveseat. "Please, have a seat and if you can, relax." Military bearing, formalities and protocol, for some, a habit, for others a shield. He wondered as he took his own seat what it meant to the man before him.

Inaros looked at the loveseat, almost confused, before he walked over and sat down. He shifted his leg for a moment, rubbing his thigh for a second before he looked at Aristede again. "You've made this office...homely," he said after a moment. An observation.

"I don't see it as an office so much as a place to talk," Aristede said. "And I do like my comforts. I've always preferred furniture that invites one to relax." He smiled slightly. "Had a captain who made sure the guest chairs in his office and the seats in the conference room were just a little short of being on the rack. The man did embrace brevity."

"I am used to standing," Leon said as he looked at the loveseat he was sitting in, almost looking puzzled. He finally looked over at Aristede, meeting his eyes for a moment. "Not often I used to sit in the presence of officers."

"Why," Aristede said, looking genuinely puzzled, "would they ever do that?"

"The Marines work a little different, Sir," Leon said as he met his eyes, giving a small smile. "There would be the L-T, and once you'd hit Sergeant it got a little different in the briefings. Higher ranking officers? You stood. I'm...new to the regular Fleet."

Aristede thought about it for a moment, nodding as he did so, considering what Leon had said. "Makes sense actually. Marines were intended to fight while Starfleet's primary mission was the pursuit of knowledge. Defense of the Federation was considered ancillary to that pursuit. And when you think of it that way, obedience, a strong code of ethics and acceptable behavior, would be essential to building a strong military force." He paused a second and then added, "I have great respect for the Marines. I'm just saying that in Starfleet, it's a bit different. Discipline and protocol matter but how strict its enforced is somewhat situational."

"I have noticed," Leon said drily, watching the other man for a long moment. "And as you say see, I am sitting..." he gave a small smile, almost playful. Truth was, he knew he had to be here. He knew it from a rational perspective. He wanted to get better, to...accept his leg, and his new life. He didn't want to feel bitterness. And it was going to be work.

Didn't mean he had to like it.

"So I see," Aristede said, "though I would have to say that I rather doubt a meaningful conversation can be had while standing up. It sort of begs brevity and lack of depth." The counselor shook his head slightly, disgust written plainly on his features. "I've never been one for small talk. Weather and the like. Or people who ask 'how are you' when they in no way, shape or form, actually want to know how you're doing."

"Just as well, Sir, you being a counsellor and all," Leon said as he nodded, his hand rubbing his left thigh almost thoughtfully. "Small talk just delays the inevitable." Which to him usually was an order, or something else. He was pragmatic about things. Small talk was when someone wanted or needed something and they were just working their way up to asking.

"Interesting way of looking at it," Aristede said, crossing one leg over the other as he spoke. "For some, small talk is their 'end game', all they have. I tend to avoid those sorts when I can. For others, yes, it can be a defense or a delaying tactic. In the latter case, there are usually signs that give it away. Easy enough to spot. As for my being a counselor, well, I was good at it long before that. Had to be on worlds like Turkana IV and Freecloud."

The names rang bells in Leon's head but he kept his mouth shut on it. And that was his defence and delaying tactic. Silence, letting the officers speak. Answer direct questions. He almost gave himself away with a smile, watching him. And then he exhaled and decided that some habits had to go. "You read my file, Sir?"

"I lived on those worlds after El Auria fell," Aristede said with a slight shrug. "My parents' idea. However, to answer your question, yes and no. I read the report that indicated mandatory counseling. I didn't go farther. Wanted to meet you, hear it from you instead. Have you spent time on either world?"

"No Sir," Leon said as he watched him, shaking his head. "Usually we were posted on Mars, unless we need to go somewhere. Hurry up and wait sort of thing." He looked down, considering it. "I haven't been many places unless I was ordered there."

"Where's home for you," Aristede asked. The gift and curse of an eidetic memory meant that nothing was forgotten, not the way Leon watched, the way his expression shifted depending on how safe he felt in the conversation, the stiffness of his posture and the way he sometimes let himself relax ever so slightly, the words he said. All of it. As a counselor, it meant that he could devote himself wholly to the moment. He leaned forward slightly, his expression curious, open.

"I..." Leon looked at him, with surprise. He hadn't expected that question. The way Aristede watched him, he felt...seen. Not really analysed, just seen. "Nowhere. I was born in space, I've...never had my own place. Home was...where my bag was put down, where I was assigned as a Marine."

"You grew up on ships," Aristede asked. "Civilian or Starfleet?"

"My father was a Marine," Leon said as he looked at him. "My mother was a teacher. I was born on the USS Athena..." he let out a soft breath, shrugging. "From there, we went wherever he was assigned."

"What was your father like," Aristede asked. "My parents were both obsessed with what happened on our home world. In some respects, I think I raised myself. So, I'm always curious what it was like for others."

"I..." Leon looked down, thinking for a moment. Trying to find memories that worked, that might have inspired him. "Strong. Smart. Firm. I know he did his best, duty kept him in long hours though. Might not have been as present as I'd like growing up."

"Was he strict, when he was at home," Aristede asked.

"No," he chuckled at that, considering it for a moment. "More distant. My mother, she was the strict one. Unless she told him to take care of it...then...well..." he shrugged and sat back. "He's tear me a new one like a Marine Drill Instructor."

"Living on Starfleet vessels, a strict mother, and a distant father who would treat you like a recruit if you got out of line." Aristede grinned, his expression turning curious again. "Did you? Step out of line now and again?"

"Of course I did. My Mum never noticed I was...doing stuff. And when she did she'd lecture that I needed more structure and never did," Leon said with a small smile, raising an eyebrow. "I'm only human after all. I did the things a kid does on a starship. I went on unauthorised spacewalks. I went to places I wasn't meant to go, I got into fights and arguments, I pulled pranks, I flirted shamelessly with anyone who came visiting..." he looked down, thoughtful. "I think I was trying to get my father's attention. The disciplinarian who...wasn't there most of the time. And when he was, we argued. A lot."

"Unauthorized space walks," Aristede murmured. "That does sound like fun. When your father was home, what did you argue about?"

"Oh...discipline," Leon said with a small smile and gestured to himself. "My lack of it, more to the point. I was too wild, not focused...you name it. Wasted potential and all that. I'd argue and say I'd figure stuff out when I got there, that...I was a kid. I got to have fun. Especially since we never stayed long in one place."

"It's sometimes hard for an individual who is highly disciplined to understand someone who is not," Aristede said. "When you add to that the parental duty to keep your children safe, well, there was bound to be some conflict. Did you work it out in time?"

"We're...still working on it," Leon said with a small smile that he didn't feel, that didn't reach his eyes at all, shaking his head. "We've not talked since I left the Marines. He...believes I could have stayed if I really wanted it." And there lay the crux of it, the reason he wasn't speaking with him. And by default, his mother. They had always been a team in their own way and he had never felt...good enough for them. Even when he had succeeded there had always been something else. Leaving the Marines, that had been like turning his back on his parents.

"Why did you choose to leave," Aristede asked, "if, as your father thinks, there was a way to stay?"

Leon looked at him before he looked out, at the stars, at Mars. Away from the moment in the room. "I didn't choose to leave. I couldn't make the physical requirements, not with this damned leg," he said, his voice bitter with it. "My brain isn't accepting it the way normal people get over it."

"And you've explained this to your father. He knows why you couldn't stay?"

Leon's hand drifted to his thigh and he rubbed it, not really realising he was doing it. Just down the side in a subtle movement as he kept his eyes on Mars. "He knew a lot of Marines who had gotten replacements when they got injured. And they were fine, got back to it as soon as," he let out a breath and shook his head. "I just shut the argument down, not spoken to him since. He called me weak. He might have been right, doesn't mean I liked hearing it."

"So maybe," Aristede said quietly. "What you need to do is figure out for yourself why you said 'no'. Why you couldn't go back and once you do, it will be a whole lot easier to explain to your father."

"I know why, because of my leg!" Leon snapped, with annoyance before he let out a shaky breath. He took a few calming breath to push back the wave of anger he felt like a burning ball in the back of his throat. "Sorry...I'm sorry, I..." he sighed and shook his head. "It's my stupid brain. Can't make it gel right with it. Tried. Did it all, pushed through the pain. And I wasn't fast enough in the end. Not fast enough to pass."

Aristede nodded. "And what happened when you told your father that?"

He looked at him, his jaw tightening slightly. "Who said I told him that," he said quietly. "Wasn't exactly like I could get a word in edge way when he started shouting. So...I just told the computer to end transmission. I was in Starfleet Medical anyway."

"Why was he shouting," Aristede asked, his head cocked slightly to one side.

Leon shook his head, a slow exhale calming him down. "My former CO was a friend of his. So...he told him I had resigned before I had the chance to tell him myself."

"And in your mind, there is no other path for you but the one that's been denied you," Aristede asked.

"In my mind...there's only the path ahead and the steps that will take me there," Leon finally said, clearly having thought about it for a moment. He looked embarrassed, his cheeks flushed with colour. "I'm angry that an accident took away my career as a Marine. I'm angry that I haven't been able to regain that. That I am in the percentage that don't get on with my biosynthetic leg for no reason whatsoever. But it's...not going to help. I have to keep moving. No matter what. Keep on moving, one foot in front of the other." He let out a breath and met the Counselor's eyes. "And damned be whoever tries to stand in my way."

[OFF]

Lt. Aristede Steele
Chief Counselor

&

PO1 Leon Inaros
Nurse
[PNPC Hanlon]

 

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