For a moment Ensign Smith offered a soft, empathetic smile. “My brother always says there’s no Olympics of suck. Your suck and my suck can both suck at the same time. It’s not a competition.”

And despite not being a counselor, Jackson was a man who grew up with siblings both older and younger and was used to lending a sympathetic ear.

“We just… we had a lot of refugees here.” Rowan said evasively.

“Dealing with civilians is hard.” he agreed. The civilians on Mireya VII never deserved to get shot by the Vaadwaur. Among the fallen was a bakery store owner, a jewelry seller and two maintenance workers. What had any of them done to deserve such a violent end?  Nothing. They merely existed, and the Vaadwaur didn’t care. “They’re not part of this and yet they get tangled up in it. The violence was… senseless.”

“Yeah.” he nodded. “They were just living their lives. And sometimes I wonder how miserable Vaadwaur life is that they had to come and destroy that.”

Knitting his brows together, the words just slipped from Jackson’s mouth. “Pretty damn awful. Take, kill and be killed? What a horrible way to live.” He had already decided that the Vaadwaur – or at least most Vaadwaur – were people living in a horrible culture. “Were you safe on the station?”

“We were honestly pretty sure we were going to die,” he said flatly. “So we didn’t waste much thought on that. Can’t exactly move away when you’re on a space station, and everything like evasive maneuvers just kind of… falls away. We knew the Vaadwaur would come, we knew we couldn’t defend, and all we could do was wait. “

“So what happened?” The security officer was completely engrossed in the counselor’s story. And somehow he also felt better, listening to someone else talk. It made him feel less alone.

“Uh.” Rowan pondered, trying to figure out how it all started. “Well first there was the Blackout. We had a ship due to arrive with supplies, but they never made it.” He paused, for the first time having the time to wonder what happened to it. “Then the refugees started flooding the place. They told us about the Vaadwaur, and we… uh… did our best to prepare.”

Which hadn’t been much. They had only just reactivated the station, operated on minimum staff, and couldn’t exactly go to warp and disappear, or hide in a convenient nebula. 

“Where did you end up in all that madness?” 

“Helping.” he shrugged. “Many of the refugees needed medical treatment, or someone to talk to.” Which was an euphemism for ‘long term therapy’. 

“That sounds routine and yet overwhelming all at the same time.” Jackson offered gently. “But it didn’t sound like it was only medical treatment…” he prompted in the same way he used to prompt his sisters into spilling more details of any given story.

“Well, then one lone Vaadwaur arrived. He was called Gant. He defected, and he told us everything we needed to know about the forces they were sending our way.”

The security officer’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Was he genuine? That sounds like a real boon.”

Rowan sighed and shook his head. “That’s the thing. It was good intel – useful even – but it didn’t really change anything for the better. We’re a small station, it’s not like they sent their whole fleet here, but they didn’t have to. The moment Gant told us details, we knew that we didn’t stand a chance.”

Pausing a moment Jackson Smith imagined what it was like, getting news about an invasion that would destroy you, and being helpless – unable to run, unable to hide and not strong enough to defend yourself. “That sounds awful.”

“Yeah. That really did suck.”

“How did you make it through it?” Clearly Rowan – and the rest of the station – was still here.

“Uh. Just.. work, I guess. Help others, concentrate on that.” Rowan shrugged. “Not a great coping strategy, I’ll admit that.”

“And then you’ve been doing this ever since?” Empathy flooded into the young security officer’s words. The two men were similar in age, and Jackson knew exactly how hard it was for him to process this.

Rowan hesitated. This would certainly be the perfect time to introduce Jackson to coping skills. Meditation, going out with friends, pick your poison. 

Unfortunately, Rowan himself was doing neither.

“Yeah. Kinda.”

With a shrug, Jackson offered something that was probably completely out of line, but also felt like the most compassionate thing to say given the situation. “Maybe you just need a break. Go somewhere, do something that is all about decompressing and connecting with people without ever anyone mentioning the word Vaadwaur.”

Rowan thought about that. It was solid advice. 

“Yeah,” he said slowly. And then, offered something that was probably also completely out of line. “Do you want to… uh… I don’t know… hang out while you’re here?”

The young security officer considered this.

“That would be great!” He meant it, he would like to hang out with someone who was about his age and a similar Starfleet background. He didn;t know if it was proper to do that with a counselor, but this had turned into less of a counselling session and more of a conversation and he was totally OK with that.

“There is a xindi-aquatic sushi restaurant on the promenade.” Rowan suggested. 

He beamed, Jackson loved a good restaurant and he had been fond of sushi ever since his roommate at the academy introduced him to it. “That sounds good!  Except… I hope it’s not actually made of Xindi…”

The security officer shook his head a bit as if regretting that his brain immediately went to such a funny question. But it seemed that he wasn’t the only one.

“I…. uh… hope that refers to the owner, not the sushi, yes.”

“Then let’s catch lunch.” Smith winked. “Pun intended.”

Because sushi, fish, you know.  

What started as an awkward counselling session might just be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Or more?