Counseling a Trill: A Different Approach

Posted on Wed 18th Feb, 2026 @ 4:54pm by Commander Heriah Rex & Commander Paul Graves PsyD

3,344 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: [MAIN] From The Ashes
Location: Chief Counselor's Office
Timeline: Current

ON

Heriah was walking toward the Counseling office for another one of her scheduled appointments. Graves' words from their initial meeting still echoed in her mind.

"Today's meeting is meant to be low-stress, Paul had said. We don't even know each other. There's no way for you to have enough trust in me after just one meeting for me to expect you to bare your soul to me. Good counseling takes time. I am half-Betazoid, so what you feel is going to be something I'll notice, but I do my best not to pry unless I have a very good reason to. My people have a code of ethics that I follow, and I can send you a copy of it, if you'd like. I have ways of blocking how much of your emotions I notice--and I sometimes do that. But I also feel, what's the point of having a skill if I don't use it? So I feel as if I'm walking a tightrope at times."

Those words from almost a year ago still rung loudly in her mind. Or was it something Rex constantly recalled? After being Joined for these 2 years, sometimes it was hard to tell whose memory was whose.

'No if we can just knock him off that tightrope.'

Heriah rounded a corner and pressed onward. She was not sure if Paul was keeping a tally or not, but she was. And her tally was that she had managed to worm her way out of more sessions with him than she had actually kept.

'Now we just need to worm our way into his pants, wait until his guard is down, then...khiiikh...slice the throat. Bye bye telepath.

"I'm not doing that Rex," she said in a lowered voice. There was no one about the corridor at that moment, so she felt comfortable speaking aloud to Rex. "He has a code."

'And you are confident he has not been breaking that code, keeping that information to himself, keeping notes, secrets, waiting to out it all at once?"

"I am," she said as she stepped upon the door to the Counseling office.

Heriah also recalled Graves' other admission; that, "Normally, if my patients feel uncomfortable being treated by a psionic counselor, I will find a non-psionic counselor to work with them, and I'm happy to do so--but I can't offer you that option. I suspect you understand why."

Yes, Heriah knew why.

'Rikata the Mole'

"Let's get this done."

'I do not want to do this.'

"Neither do I," she only mouthed the words as she stepped forward one more step.

The door slid open invitingly. Heriah scanned the area with just her eyes before stepping inside. The place smelled nice, the ambient light was meant to help with relaxation, the calming music one could barely hear was meant to help compound that relaxation. It all only stiffened Heriah's defenses each and every time she came in.

The clerk at the desk was expecting her. Wanting to be within the office as little as possible, Heriah had arrived only a minute before her scheduled appointment. The clerk hurried her along to Paul's office. Heriah knew the way but Cheerful Smiles wanted to be kind enough to show her the way...again.

Paul's office was devoid of the waiting room's soft music and lighting. It was simply well lit, in a spectrum matching that of Betazed's sun. There were a couple of paintings of waterfalls--one of them a Purulence Addams original. The office was done up in maroon and beige. A bowl of polished pebbles sat in the middle of the coffee table as if inviting guests to take one.

"Come in," Paul invited. He always met his patients at the office door if he didn't go to the lobby himself to meet them. It felt to him more as if he were greeting guests rather than sitting at his desk, waiting for them to present themselves. Today, a look of amusement flitted across his face before he schooled his features into something that looked dreadfully professional.

'Yeah, you better wipe that look off your face. Before I do.'

"Yeah, you better...I mean," Heriah started, "You've gotten the place looking a bit better." She stepped in and looked around. In fact, the place looked the same. Still, "Better than I remember. I know it has been..."

'2? 3? 4?'

"...a few sessions that I have missed." She smiled at him as she passed him, stepping further into the office.

Paul moved aside, and the office door closed. "Before you came in, I was actually contemplating the Death By Chocolate I was going to enjoy at Orchids & Jazz this evening if you missed today's visit," Paul said. "So thank you for saving my diet. I'm glad you came. Would you like anything to drink before we get started?"

'Bloodwine. Romulan Ale.'

"No. Thank you," she said as she smiled at him. Heriah then ventured to her usual seat and lowered herself into it as she made the motion of brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear, when her hair was already pulled back into a ponytail.

Paul seated himself in a nearby chair. With another patient he might have started with pleasantries, but Heriah visited seldom enough that Paul decided not to waste precious time with social graces. "I would like to become better acquainted with Rex," he said and looked directly at Heriah for a moment. "It would be good for Rex to become better acquainted with me, as well. From the time we've spent together, I've come to feel that one of Rex's best qualities is that he's a fighter. It's the quality I most respect about him. But there is more to him than that."

Heriah nearly choke-laughed in a hit of unexpected anxiety. This was the first time this was asked of her. This was also something she was unsure was either doable or even a good idea.

"Well..." she started, "as you know, I am Rex. We share...well...my Joining was not entirely...well...I do not know if that is..."

'Let's do it!'

Heriah stopped her words. In fact, for that brief moment, she stopped breathing. "It can be done," she said and then decided to explain. "There is something called symbiontambulism. Essentially, that is sleepwalking but the symbiont is in control of the body."

'And we forgot to take our meds this morning.'

"It has been a bit since I took my benzocyatizine. So," she looked around the office quickly, "if you have something that can knock me out or some kind of hypnotic exercise..." she let her words drift away.

Heriah was half wanting this and half refusing this exercise. Actually, she was fully against it but Rex was fully in support of it and that alone made her a little more anxious. Rex, having always been hating on telepaths is suddenly and immediately on board with this idea.

Finally, we're getting somewhere, Paul thought, noting Heriah's wave of anxiety and the vicious eagerness Rex was projecting.

"I think we don't need to jump into the deep end of the swimming pool, the first go-round," Paul said. "I've heard of symbiontambulism, and yes, that's my end goal--but not for this session. Today, I'd like for you to just tell me the things Rex wants to say to me, hateful or otherwise. My impression is that he has plenty to say. But before we do that, I'd like to check your isoboramine levels and make sure you're all right before we start this."

"OK," she said without sounding fully confident this was a good idea. She did find some comfort knowing this would not include symbiontambulism.

Heriah watched as Graves went to his desk to fetch his monocorder. She recalled being baffled the first time he pulled that thing out but then had remembered that Rikata Mol would have made sure 109 had one on hand. Half of her, the Rex half felt that was an insult as though she would not go to the counselor herself. The other half of her, upon knowing how she was going to try and get out of many of the sessions, knew this was best for all.

Still, she felt more insulted than comforted as Graves came upon her with his monocorder. She held out her hand and extended her index finger for him to place it on.

Paul gave Heriah a curious look as the monocorder took its reading. "Why do you feel offended?" Paul asked. "As far as I'm concerned, this is just a blood test. Does it have a greater significance for you that I'm missing?"

"It's...just...it's nothing counselor. Really." Though, she thought about Rikata Mol and him contacting 109's senior staff prior to her arrival a year ago. It was as though Rikata did not trust her to seek counseling on her own, to not destroy her own personal monocorder. Truth be told, he was right to do so as she had nearly thrown her own monocorder across the room, out an airlock, or placed it in an incinerator many more times than she had skipped sessions. "I am...not offended."

With the monocorder on her finger, it did its thing; scanned, recorded, and reported.

"Again, I have not taken any benzo yet today so, I am guessing, a solid amber," she said as the monocorder gave a single beep indicating its report was complete and showed a solid amber color. Heriah looked at it, "That is a step below Flashing Green. Still within acceptable parameters. Flashing Amber means..."

'I am one step closer to domination.'

"...I should take a half dose of benzo at least. Perhaps a full dose."

"I'll want to test you again at the end of this appointment," Paul said. "For right now, I agree; this is within normal limits." But it's lower than I'd like, Paul thought as he put the monocorder away.

'You are lower than I'd like. Oh! Wait. Have we started yet. Shouldn't you vocalize that?'

Heriah sat in silence for a second before, "YOU are lower than I'd like," she said. "That was Rex's immediate response." She felt a little embarrassed, having outed Rex's thoughts openly like that, but she powered forth. In fact, a slight squirm in her gut, Rex giving a twitch, gave her a sense of bravery and empowerment. She did not feel ready a second ago but she was ready now.

Paul's eyebrows twitched, as Rex's declaration so closely matched his thought--in words if not in feeling. "Why is that?" Paul asked. "What makes me lower in your regard?"

"Not in my regard," Heriah said defensively. "I didn't mean...to say...that...I thought...that you..." She paused a moment, feeling nothing in her thoughts. "Rex is a bit quiet. He's not like this usually. I suppose me vocalizing his thought...he kind of a child you see."

'You're a child.'

"You call him out or corner him and..."

'Hey why don't you tell him about that dream of yours. Dreams I mean. You've had them...how many times now?'

"That is not a good idea," she said aloud in response to Rex. Heriah was looking away; almost as though she had forgotten she was in session.

'Why not? He wants to fix you right. Well, go on. Let him fix you.'

"It's not me that needs fixing Rex. We are here because..." and she made eye contact with Paul, her words ceasing immediately. Her nerves tingled with anxiety. Leaning forward, Heriah nearly stood. Her legs tensed as though about to raise her up, but she kept herself seated. She started feeling hot...and cold...at the same time. Her right hand balled into a fist.

'Well? What are you going to do? Sit there? Get up and run? Slug him one? What?'

Her eyes danced around the place. She could not maintain eye contact with Paul for more than a quarter second.

"As long as you believe you have the upper hand, you're happy, eh, Rex? I understand it; you prefer to feel in control. Who wouldn't, given what you've lived through? But that seems like a shabby way to treat Heriah," Paul said.

"He won't admit to it," Heriah said softly, "but it is not control Rex wants. He wants answers. Answers that only he has," she said as she raised her voice while looking down at her tummy as though raising her voice to Rex himself. She reconnected eyes with Paul. "But many of his memories are repressed. We've tried. You can look over the notes of Rikata Mol, I know he contacted you. There are some places Rex refuses to go in his memories. They are just..." she wrapped her arms around herself, "...sometimes the memories are just too painful."

'The only control I want is to die. But no. Once you go crazy they will slap me inside another hapless loser.'

"And when you let pain define you, these are the words Rikata Mol gave me, but when you let pain define you, sometimes you take on a mean and hateful persona," Heriah finished.

"'Suffering leads to the dark side,' 'Hurt people hurt people,'" Paul quoted with a nod. "Yes, Rikata Mol did write to me. While he gave me some information, I felt more that he wanted me to form my own opinions."

'Then start forming.'

"Then start forming," Heriah said. "That was what Rex thought...right then." She looked around the room awkwardly. "So, how do we proceed? Or should we set up another session?"

'We will find a way to avoid that one.'

"This is directed to Rex," Paul said. "I think you got dealt a very raw deal, Rex. It's beyond evil, what the Borg tried to do to you and Refkin. I can't undo the suffering of that. I can't make them pay." A smile flickered at his lips and vanished. "I can feel you feeling I'm useless--and I am, as far as what you've already suffered. My hope is to help you make your and Heriah's future better, happier, though you see no possible way to that right now. And I'm going to tell you, the one way you do see is no good. In its own way, it's just as evil as what the Borg wanted to do--and I think you know that."

'You've been contacted by Rikata the Mole.'

"You've have contacted by Rikata Mol," Heriah repeated. She felt Paul already knew she was relaying Rex's thoughts.

'You know the two prior hosts only survived 5 years before dying.'

"You know the two prior hosts only survived 5 years before dying."

'When this body dies...in...one, two, three years...'

"What this body dies in," Heriah counted on her fingers, "one, two, three years..." she stood and got in Paul's face, "you promise me they do not Join me with anyone else." She sent her right hand into Paul's chest, giving him an aggressive shove. "Let me die!"

"Oof!" Yeah, definitely no symbiontambulism yet, Paul thought, even as he twisted slightly to avoid the full brunt of the attack.It didn't help much; the strike was solid.

Rex glared at him angrily, teeth showing, nostrils flaring, fists tightly balled. Then there came a gasp. She realized just what was happening. Heriah did not need the monocorder to know that it would be give her a red light. She turned to the sofa and dug feverishly in her satchel and pulled, from it, her hypospray. She worked the controls prepping a single dose.

'Go ahead. Make it a double.'

"Perhaps a double dose is needed?"

"Probably, but not until I measure your current levels, so we know with certainty." Paul said and levered himself up from his chair. "He packs quite the punch," He went to his desk and handed Heriah his monocorder, then he began tapping his computer. "You're going to need higher doses of benzocyatizine until Rex is more stable, because his distress drains you a lot faster than a typical Joining would. I want to consult with Dr. Delling about that on a permanent basis, but I don't see any contraindications in your chart, so I'm prescribing a week's worth of additional doses in the meantime."

Heriah held her hypospray in one hand and the monocorder in the other. She paused briefly as though stuck in thought as to what to do next. Placing the hypospray down, she worked the monocorder onto her finger. "Given the time since the last test, I am guessing...flashing amber." she said as the device did its thing. A few seconds later, it beeped and the light illuminated a, "Solid red," she said as Paul could clearly see the same result. "Rex's outburst must have...well," she took the monocorder off her finger and retrieved her hypospray, looking at it.

'Can't do it can you? You need me. Can hardly function without me. Fearful of bad decisions without me.'

"Double dose," she said as she worked the controls of the hypospray. It was already set to a double dose as she had done a moment ago and she adjusted it back to a single dose. It gave a satisfactory double bleep indicating its settings were accepted. "There," Heriah said as she smiled at Paul, then pressed the hypospray to her neck and sent forth the dosage.

Removing it from her neck, Heriah looked at the readout on the small screen and started working the controls again. "Now to log the date and time," as she adjusted the settings back to double dosage. It bleeped again its satisfactory sound. "Done," she said.

He looked directly at Heriah. "You need some peace from Rex for a bit. I feel that he's trying to wear you down, make you too mentally exhausted to fight him, so you'll become forgetful, let things slip your mind that could endanger you, perhaps even make you hate him enough to end both your lives. It's constant mental abuse. Honestly, Heriah, I'm very concerned for you. You're walking a tightrope with astounding poise and grace, and I don't want either of you to fall. Rex fought so hard to survive, and he still fights, even to die. That's why I think there's hope for your Joining."

'Well, you were right up until the hope part.'

"Thank you, doctor," she said. "I know the road is long and difficult. You have Rikata the Mole's...Rikata Mol's notes to show exactly that. But he helped me greatly just as I am confident you will do the same."

'Good. Butter him up. I won't even fight against these sessions. I want another change to swing at him.'

"You have my word. Unless there is an emergency, I will not be missing any more sessions."

There was deception somewhere, Paul thought, but he couldn't discern exactly what statement it was related to or if it originated from Rex or Heriah. "I'd very much appreciate that, Commander. I already have some things I want to learn from Rex at our next appointment."

'Oh I am looking forward to that.'

"Oh I am looking forward to that," she said. "That is from both Rex and me."

Heriah already had her satchel hanging from her shoulder. "Go ahead and schedule my next appointment. Again, I will try not to miss it." With that and a smile, she turned and was off.

OFF

 

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