The Edge of Freedom #54"
By: Patia Zoei, Chief Counselor, [PC]

Stardate: 58204.14 1800

==Counselor’s office==

The very atmosphere of the ship seemed to be on stand by, as if the entire crew was holding its collective breath. From all she had read and heard, this was a common occurrence prior to a planned entry into warfare. It wasn ’t something she had ever experienced first hand. The chronometer ticked away the seconds, her heart keeping beat with the steady clicking. Glancing around her comfortable office, Zoei wondered if the rest of the crew felt the same type of anticipation, edged by anxiety. Chuckling at her foolishness, she realized she was relatively protected in her secure office. The remainder of the crew was undoubtedly at a higher level of awareness than she felt. The tension she felt from the crew had been building all day. The sheer volume of emotions being emitted from crew members made it difficult to discern the individual voices for the dull roar of the crowd on board.

Walking the perimeter of her office, she noted all was in order. The upcoming days and weeks were bound to have this office seeing more patients suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. It was important that the room remain orderly, yet serene. The calm in the eye of the storm was to be her mantra.

Lifting her hair from the back of her neck and letting it fall back to her shoulders, Zoei contemplated the décor of her office. The scent of gardenia lilies wafted around her. The lilies immediately brought a picture of her mother to her mind. In her last message, her mother had mentioned a new technique she was trying with her stitchery. Next time she wrote, she would ask her mother if she could formulate a design, incorporating her new mantra. She would like to display it in her office, in an unobtrusive way. Properly incorporated into a design, no one else need to know what it says, but it should still be able to give a sublimial message of calmness. It was too bad she hadn’t thought of this before she took this new posting.

Zoei strode from her desk to the doorway, pausing to straighten an already perfectly arranged throw on the back of the visitor’s sofa in the sitting area. A final pat to the sofa’s throw pillows, and she was done. The best place for her to be now was her quarters. If anyone on the bridge needed her, she would be available. Her stomach rumbled. With a quick change of mind, she decided a stop at Miranda’s for a little soup would be in order, before retiring to her quarters.

At the door, she glanced back again, almost compulsively. All was still in order. “Computer, lights off,” zoei said as she stepped into the hall.