Quiet Introductions
Posted on Fri Mar 13th, 2026 @ 12:36am by Lieutenant Vura & Lieutenant Amelia Zano Psy.D.
Edited on on Fri Mar 13th, 2026 @ 6:29am
3,753 words; about a 19 minute read
Mission:
Episode 17 - Going Home
Location: Office of the Chief Counselor - Deck 5 - USS Pioneer
Timeline: MD016 1300 hrs
Alyssa had mentioned Amelia Zano in their meeting. After a bit of research, she found that Dr. Zano had been the previous Chief Counselor. Why had she left the position? The official answer was that she was participating in a study where the El-Aurian genome was going to be utliized to cure diseases. So, why become a doctor? Why come back to Pioneer? Why had they not met before?
All of these questions raced through Vura's mind as she called out, =^= Dr. Zano, this is Counselor Vura. Would you kindly meet me in my office? =^=
Amelia had just finished logging a follow-up note when the chime sounded softly through her office.
She paused, fingers resting on the edge of the console as Vura’s voice came through—polite, measured, carefully neutral. Amelia listened all the way to the end before responding, as she always did, letting the request settle rather than reacting to it.
“Of course,” she replied after a brief beat, her tone warm but unassuming. “I’ll be there shortly.”
She closed the file rather than saving it mid-thought. Whoever the patient had been could wait a few more minutes. Amelia straightened the padds on her desk out of habit, smoothed a crease from her sleeve, then hesitated—just for a second—before heading out.
The corridor outside the Chief Counsellor’s office slowed Amelia without her meaning it to.
She stopped just short of the door, more out of habit than hesitation, and let herself take a quiet breath before stepping forward. The space carried familiarity she didn’t need to unpack. This wasn’t the place for it.
She tapped the chime lightly.
When the door opened, Amelia inclined her head in a small, professional greeting. Her gaze moved once around the room—not lingering, not assessing, simply registering—before returning to the woman in front of her.
“Lieutenant Zano,” she said evenly. “You asked to see me.”
Her tone was calm, open, without expectation. She didn’t move to sit, didn’t fill the silence, simply waited—present, attentive, and content to let the moment unfold on its own terms.
Vura welcomed Zano. "Thank you for coming, doctor. Or should I call you counselor? Or should I call you Amelia?" Vura asked. "You may call me Vura, regardless. I'm afraid that I have been rather remiss in meeting you. Please come in." The Deltan swung out her arm towards the office.
At the entrance to Vura's office, there were placed some blooming lavender plants, which gave off a pleasant soothing smell. On a wall, over a couch, she had put up a copy of Katsushika Hokusai's "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" above a periwinkle couch that swooped up and then down in the middle and then back up again. The couch had definite sensual innuendos written all over the convenient shaping.
The walls of her office were of a deep rose with hints of purple hues. From there, she opted only for a small desk, so the desk would not set a barrier between her and her clients. It was a semi-circle and she placed it carefully in such a way where she could swivel on a chair and quickly type something on a computer or PADD and not interfere with her relationship with her client. The color of the desk nearly blended into the wall but was more mauve on closer inspection.
Warm wooded mahogany chairs were available in case her clients did not prefer to be on the couch. There was a small glass circle table between the chairs. The table contained a small zen sand garden and rake for clients to manipulate.
Amelia paused just inside the doorway, giving herself a moment before stepping fully into the office. Her attention moved naturally through the space: the lavender at the threshold, the curve of the couch, the deliberate colours and textures. She registered it all without comment, the way she did with most environments—letting the impressions settle quietly rather than rise to the surface. It wasn’t her instinct to compare, only to acknowledge that the room now reflected someone else’s way of working.
She turned her attention back to Vura, a small, genuine smile softening her expression.
“Amelia is fine,” she said easily. “And please—there’s no need to apologise. We’ve all been busy. Heavy caseloads have a way of rearranging priorities.”
She stepped further inside at Vura’s invitation, moving with unhurried ease. Though the office no longer carried her imprint, she treated it with the same respect she always had, as a place meant to hold other people’s lives rather than her own history.
“I’m glad we’re meeting now,” Amelia added, settling into a comfortable stance without immediately choosing a seat. “How can I help?”
Her tone was open, unassuming—present without presuming.
"Well, Amelia, for the moment, I would just like to get to know you. From what I've read, you actually were the Chief Counselor and now you're in medical, or perhaps under me, as well? I must admit, that I am a little confused and would like to know more about you and how all this came to be," Vura replied, while standing to the side of Amelia and waiting for Zano to take a seat. She is assessing something, Vura considered.
Amelia considered that for a moment, then nodded. She moved to one of the chairs rather than the couch, settling into it with an ease that suggested she wasn’t trying to make a statement by the choice. Her hands rested loosely in her lap as she looked back to Vura, attentive but relaxed.
“That confusion makes sense,” she said lightly. “Starfleet paperwork doesn’t always tell the story very well.”
She offered a small, apologetic smile.
“I’m still a counsellor at heart. That hasn’t changed. I’m doing some medical rotations to get my clinical hours back up to where they need to be, but my day-to-day focus is still psychological support. So yes, for all practical purposes, I’m under you.”
There was no defensiveness in it, just clarity.
“As for the rest,” Amelia went on, a little less formally now, “I was asked to step into the Chief Counsellor role for a time, then pulled back to Starfleet Medical for that research posting. When I came back, the department had moved on, and that was… fine, actually. I was happy to return without the title.”
She paused, then softened, meeting Vura’s gaze more openly.
“If you’re trying to get a sense of me rather than my service record,” she added, “I’m easier to understand in conversation than on a PADD. Ask me whatever you like.”
"In many ways, you seem to be the exact opposite of me. You seem to be a lot more serene, where I'm a lot more hands on. However, initial impressions can often be wrong. Why don't you just tell me about yourself? After all, I've made the mistake about not meeting you directly and I know nothing about you other than what I read. As you said, I would rather get to know you as a person than as a dossier," Vura countered.
Amelia took that in without rushing to answer. She leaned back slightly in the chair, not retreating, just giving herself space to think, eyes lowering for a moment before returning to Vura’s.
“That’s probably a fair read,” she said, gently amused rather than defensive. “I do tend to come across as serene. It’s less a personality trait than a survival skill.”
She let out a quiet breath, something between a laugh and a release.
“I grew up learning how to listen before I learned how to speak. That carried through medical school, through counselling, through Starfleet. I’m most comfortable when I’m paying attention rather than directing things. I don’t mind being hands-on, but I’m usually hands-on in quieter ways.”
Her fingers laced together loosely, not a shield, just a habit.
“I became a doctor because I wanted to help people when things went wrong,” she continued. “I became a counsellor because I realised that most of the damage doesn’t show up on a scanner. I’m good at sitting with uncertainty, with grief, with things that don’t resolve cleanly. I don’t need people to be okay by the end of a conversation. I just need them to feel less alone in it.”
She glanced around the room once more, briefly, then back.
“I don’t chase titles. I don’t enjoy politics. I do my best work one-on-one, over time. And I care deeply about this ship and the people on it, even when I’m not very loud about that.”
A small smile touched her mouth, warmer now.
“So that’s me, in broad strokes,” Amelia finished. “Quiet, persistent, occasionally stubborn, and probably more affected by things than I let on. If I can be a steady presence here rather than a disruptive one, I’m doing what I came to do.”
She met Vura’s gaze, open and unguarded.
“And I’m genuinely glad we’re finally having this conversation.”
"As am I," Vura replied enthusiastically. "Tell me, though, what do you mean that you're more affected by things than you let on?"
Amelia nodded slowly, as if Vura had put words to something she usually left unlabelled.
“It’s not just people,” she said. “Not always.”
She glanced briefly at the edge of the desk, then the space beyond it, her attention moving through the room without fixing on anything in particular.
“Places hold things. Objects too. Not memories the way a recorder does, but impressions. Emotional residue. What people bring into a space, what they leave behind. Most people feel it as comfort or discomfort and move on. For me, it’s… clearer than that.”
Her voice remained steady, almost clinical, but the honesty underneath it was unmistakable.
“As an El-Aurian, time doesn’t layer neatly. Moments overlap. Add empathy to that and it means I don’t just experience what’s happening now—I register what has happened, sometimes all at once. Music does it particularly strongly. Certain spaces too.”
She offered a small, self-aware smile.
“It’s manageable. I’ve learned how to carry it without letting it interfere with my work. But it does mean things land deeper, and stay longer, than people usually realise.”
Her gaze returned to Vura, curious rather than guarded.
“I imagine Deltans experience something similar, even if it manifests differently,” Amelia added gently. “Not telepathy exactly, perhaps—but awareness. Connection. Sensitivity to what’s beneath the surface.”
She paused, then softened the moment with quiet warmth.
“It’s one of the reasons I chose this path. If I’m going to feel those echoes anyway, I might as well use them to help.”
"We feel a great many things," Vura admitted. "Much of our lives are very concentrated on our inner space. It is so concentrated on that, that external connections can be difficult. Most Deltans never leave home. Why leave when there's so much that can be experienced exactly where you are," Vura recited with practiced ease.
"Naturally, this must make you wonder why I left.... It also naturally leads into one of the reasons that I called you in today...." Vura let both of these phrases hang for a long time, as she remained comfortably in her own chair.
Amelia let the quiet linger a moment longer, not because she needed time, but because Vura seemed comfortable in it.
“That does make me wonder,” she said softly, her voice unhurried. “Not in a formal way. Just… as someone sitting across from you.”
A faint smile curved at the corner of her mouth.
“If most Deltans feel everything they need right where they are, then choosing to leave must have meant something. Either something was calling you outward… or something inside you wasn’t satisfied staying still.”
She shifted slightly in her chair, relaxed, attentive.
“I’d like to hear that part.”
Her tone wasn’t probing. It was warm, curious—an invitation rather than an examination.
"It was that everything at home reminded me of him.... Cannir.... My love, who literally died for me," she answered, her voice shrinking as she revealed the story. "To some extent, friends and family understood. I'm sure that they thought it a phase and that I would get over it. I couldn't.... I didn't.... So, I took the Oath and ran to Starfleet, hoping the distance and time would help.... Sometimes, it does. Often it does.... For awhile.... Then I start to become closer to others and that's when I know it is time to leave."
Amelia’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly as Vura spoke, the warmth in it deepening, her posture softening rather than tightening. She didn’t interrupt. She didn’t move too quickly to respond. She let the weight of Cannir’s name settle between them.
“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, not as a reflex but as something meant. “Loving someone who would give their life for you… that doesn’t become smaller just because time passes.”
Her voice remained gentle, steady enough to lean against.
“Leaving makes sense,” she continued. “When every street, every room, every familiar place carries the echo of someone you’ve lost, distance can feel like the only way to breathe again. And sometimes it does help. For a while.”
She watched Vura carefully, not analysing, just present.
“But walking away each time you begin to feel close to someone… that sounds less like healing and more like protection. As though part of you believes that connection is what makes the loss unbearable.”
There was no judgement in her tone, only quiet understanding.
“You don’t have to outrun grief to honour it,” Amelia added softly. “And you don’t have to leave every time your heart risks remembering how to open.”
"Intellectually, I understand that. However, emotionally is another matter. Opening up and being vulnerable are risks. So is the potential for falling in love again, not that I dare suggest I'm ready for anything like that. It would feel like a betrayal. Besides, barring the rare Deltan that shows up in Starfleet, physical pleasure is not something I can have. There is Llaxia here, who I can use as a release but that's all it is, a release, and Llaxia is two people, which is a mess in of itself."
Amelia listened without interruption, her expression softening but never tightening into concern. There was no correction in her eyes, no subtle shift into professional mode.
“I don’t think any of that makes you weak,” she said quietly. “It sounds like you’re trying to protect something that mattered.”
She rested back in the chair, relaxed, not leaning in as if this were a session.
“Loving again after losing someone like that… it doesn’t feel like courage. It feels like risk. And sometimes it feels like disloyalty, even when it isn’t.” A faint smile touched her lips. “Humans say love is human. I’ve never quite understood that phrase.”
She tilted her head slightly, thoughtful.
“Where I come from, we’re taught that love isn’t something that replaces what came before. It layers. It expands. The first love doesn’t vanish when another appears. It changes shape, but it remains part of you.”
Her gaze stayed gentle, steady.
“If Cannir loved you enough to die for you, I doubt he would want his memory to become a boundary around your life.”
There was no insistence in it. Just warmth.
“You don’t betray someone by continuing to live,” Amelia added softly. “And you don’t erase them by feeling again.”
She let the silence return, not pushing it away this time, simply sitting with her — not as a counsellor guiding a client, but as a woman who understood what it meant to carry echoes and still move forward.
"All of that makes sense logically," Vura answered. "And were I the one offering advice today, I likely would be offering very similar advice. Unfortunately, there is a large difference between knowing and feeling and we Deltans.... Perhaps we feel too much. Most of us spend our lives concentrating so hard on our inner space and experiencing new sensations."
Vura scoffed at herself and gave a short, wry laugh. "Perhaps I am now a defective Deltan. I desire to experience the new and yet, once I get there, or close, I find that I do not." She gave another short laugh. "I am glad that I am not talking to a Vulcan counselor. I would get a rather long look and discussion regarding my illogic."
Amelia’s smile appeared before she quite realised it, the quiet laugh in Vura’s voice pulling it out of her.
“I can imagine,” she said softly. Then, after a beat, she straightened just slightly in her chair, her expression smoothing into an almost ceremonial seriousness.
“Counsellor,” she intoned in a perfectly calm, even cadence. “Your emotional conflict appears to stem from an inconsistency between your intellectual understanding and your behavioural responses. I would suggest that the most logical course of action would be to cease engaging in self-contradictory behaviour.”
She held the expression for another moment before the composure broke and the warmth returned to her eyes.
“I’m fairly certain that would be the opening line,” she added with quiet amusement.
The humour faded gently rather than abruptly, leaving the room easy rather than heavy.
“You’re not defective,” Amelia continued, her voice returning to its usual softness. “Wanting something and hesitating when you reach the edge of it is… very familiar territory for most people, no matter their species.”
She gave a small shrug, easy and unguarded.
“And if Deltans feel more intensely than most, that doesn’t make the hesitation stranger. If anything, it makes it understandable.”
Her gaze stayed warm, curious.
“Though I do admit,” she added lightly, “the universe might be a little quieter if Vulcans were responsible for explaining the heart.”
"Why do you say that?" Vura asked curiously. "I do know of a Vulcan counselor. She is rather unusual as far as Vulcans go. I get the impression that she probably is not well respected at home."
Amelia’s smile returned, softer this time, touched with a little amusement at the question.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it as criticism,” she said gently. “Just an observation. Vulcans approach things through logic first. When emotions become complicated, their instinct is usually to resolve the contradiction. The heart doesn’t always cooperate with that.”
She let out a quiet breath, the humour lingering.
“Most people know what they feel isn’t logical. They just feel it anyway.”
Her expression warmed again as she regarded Vura.
“That said, a Vulcan counsellor must be an interesting combination. Someone who understands emotion well enough to help others navigate it while coming from a culture that spends so much effort mastering it.” A faint tilt of her head followed. “I imagine she sees things from angles the rest of us might miss.”
"Perhaps," Vura replied with a small shrug. "However, based on her papers, I wonder if she longs to be Romulan. She is a counselor on Deep Space 5. Her name is T'Lul. I've never actually met her, but I imagine the discussion would be fascinating."
Amelia’s smile lingered, warm and easy.
“A Vulcan who might secretly wish to be Romulan,” she said lightly. “That does sound like someone who would make Starfleet Medical a little uneasy.”
The humour settled between them and then faded naturally, leaving the room quiet in a comfortable way. Amelia didn’t hurry to fill the space. She seemed perfectly content to let the conversation breathe where it had come to rest.
“I’m glad you asked me to come by, Lieutenant,” she said after a moment, her voice gentle. “Ships have a way of making people orbit each other for months without ever actually sitting down like this.”
Her gaze held Vura’s, open and steady.
“And I’m always around if you ever want to continue the conversation. About work, life… or philosophical Vulcan counsellors.”
She shifted slightly in the chair, an unconscious signal that the moment might be nearing its end, though she made no move to stand yet. The invitation remained there between them, warm and unpressured, leaving Vura the space to speak again if she wished.
"Please, just address me as Vura. Lieutenant is much too formal," Vura replied as she gracefully rose from her seat. "I am very glad that we finally had a chance to meet and I am sorry that I did not reach out sooner. This has been an enjoyable and enlightening conversation. I cannot see how we could not repeat this experience, though, perhaps in a less formal setting? Dinner or drinks?"
Amelia’s smile warmed as Vura rose, the easy shift in formality sitting comfortably with her.
“Vura, then,” she said softly. “And Amelia will do just fine for me.”
She stood a moment later herself, the movement unhurried, as though the conversation had simply reached its natural pause.
“I’m glad we finally had the chance to talk,” she added. “Ships like this have a way of keeping everyone moving just fast enough that simple introductions slip by.”
At the suggestion of dinner or drinks, her expression brightened slightly.
“I’d like that,” Amelia said. “We could try After 11. It’s usually a good place to unwind and have a conversation that isn’t happening in an office.”
She gave a small, relaxed smile.
"Wonderful!" Vura enthused. "I rather enjoy After 11 and its atmosphere. I'll coordinate with you soon, unless you know a time now...."
Amelia’s smile lingered, the enthusiasm in Vura’s voice easy to match.
“That sounds perfect,” she said gently. “The next time we both manage to be off duty at the same time should work well enough.”
She gave a small, relaxed shrug, the gesture light.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
A Post By:
Lieutenant Amelia Zano
Medical Officer/Counselor, USS Pioneer
Lieutenant Vura
Chief Counselor, USS Pioneer
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