"Crisis"
Lieutenant Waqas Jilani
= Counselor's Office =
= USS Charon =
"Aren't I supposed to be the one lying down?"
Waqas Jilani looked up and sideways from his prone position at the nervous young cadet in his office. The younger officer was, of course, correct. Traditionally, those few counselors who still put couches in their offices reserved them for the patients. Waqas, himself, however, was quite content to be sprawled out his divan, letting the officers who came to talk to him have the chair.
Jilani let his head drop down lazily and said, "Are you tired?"
"Um…no, Sir."
"Then I don't see any reason why you should get to lie down."
Cadet Michael Brown, a wiry, impossibly tall man with fidgety eyes, gave Jilani an odd look. "Maybe because I am the one having a crisis?"
"I live my life perpetually in the middle of one crisis or another. Which makes me an expert. And let me tell you, you aren't having a crisis."
"I'm not?"
"Not even close." Jilani sat up with a grimace. "I mean, come on...you came to see the counselor because you are feeling homesick and lonely. How pathetic is that?"
"Excuse me?" Brown sputtered indignantly.
"Spare me the offended look, Cadet. You're a wuss. And that I can't help you with. Here we are in deep space, watching a star pop like an overripe cherry and you're here whining about how you miss your friends and your mommy. Man up."
The young man got to his feet, obviously unsure of how to react. Jilani, however, kept talking, his voice never rising from bored, controlled tones despite the edge in his words. "If you're not impressed by a star exploding and spewing a mess all over everything, I suggest you get drunk."
"Get drunk." Cadet Brown repeated uncertainly, "That is your advice?"
"Yeah. Get drunk. Hell, spend some credits and get others drunk too. A lot of people are anxious for some reason when a giant ball of gas, witness to eons of history, decides to fade and die. They feel like they are having a 'crisis' too. You all should get along just fine."
"They aren't having a crisis either?"
Jilani rolled his eyes and got up to his feet. "No. What is wrong with you people? You are all experiencing normal emotions. Anxiety in the face of the unknown. Insignificance in the face of cosmic history. And, yeah, when you are away from home, crammed in a glorified, pressurized, metal tube, homesickness. Not every bad feeling is a 'crisis'."
"So we should all collectively 'man up'?"
"Or at the very least, leave me alone. So get out of my office. Find a bunch of the morons I mentioned in the lounge and buy them drinks. Get drunk yourself. Play cards. Fall in love. Pinch a Vulcan's ass. Live. Just do it somewhere else."
"I have to say, Sir, I find this session to be extremely offensive and…."
At that moment, Jilani's communicator chirped. "Ambassador Lamont and Counselor Jilani, please report to the bridge."
Jilani sighed and shrugged at Cadet Brown. "Well, this session is over, Cadet. It was nice talking to you."
"It was?"
"No. Not even a little bit."
= Eng Log =
