"You're telling me..." Lieutenant Kuznetzov said slowly. "There's... really nothing going on? No conspiracy? Nothing to worry about? It... was all in my head?"
"All in your head," Counselor Alara Hisarlik replied, placing careful emphasis on those words. "It's as I've told you. I know this may be difficult to accept, but I've been investigating thoroughly over the past two weeks. Your fears that the crew of this ship are being manipulated or infiltrated in some way are entirely unfounded."
"I see," Lieutenant Kuznetzov muttered. "Thank you."
She was grateful, wasn't she? After all, this was what she'd been hoping to hear, wasn't it? It was the best possible outcome. A few mental health issues aside, there was nothing to worry about. The Inyx wasn't in danger. She should be relieved.
So why, instead, was Lieutenant Kuznetzov finding it so hard to accept?
Maybe it was how bad things had gotten. More than ever, Lieutenant Kuznetzov was sure something was up. So many members of the crew were behaving strangely - the science officer, the ship's doctor, even the captain. Every time she entered a room, Kuznetzov was greeted with eerie silences and glassy stares, as if there was some sinister secret that everyone but her was in on.
Paranoia? It was possible, of course. But Lieutenant Kuznetzov would never have made second-in-command if her instincts weren't worth a damn, and they were telling her that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
"What's wrong?" Alara prompted. "You seem troubled, Lieutenant."
Or perhaps it was Alara Hisarlik.
She'd changed. Hadn't she? There was something different about her. Lieutenant Kuznetzov just couldn't quite seem to put her finger on it. She seemed... what was it? Calmer? Happier? More confident? Yes, all of those. But those were good things. Weren't they?
So why did Lieutenant Kuznetzov suddenly feel so uneasy around her?
Maybe it was her cabin. Two weeks ago, it had felt warm. Inviting. Since then, the counselor had redecorated, stripping back much of that pleasant decor in favor of a far more spartan vibe. It wasn't bad, exactly. Just about every cabin on a warship like the Inyx could be called 'spartan'. But the difference was palpable.
Or maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was all in Lieutenant Kuznetzov's head.
"I'm just..." Lieutenant Kuznetzov confessed. "I can't shake the feeling that... Look, are you sure? Absolutely certain?"
"Certain," Alara insisted, as she took a sip of her tea. Somehow, her icy calm wasn't comforting. "Completely. It's all in your head."
"I... see." Lieutenant Kuznetzov found herself unconvinced, and it was clear that she wasn't going to get any answers here. She made to stand up. "In that case, counselor, I'll try to put it out of my mind. My apologies for wasting your-"
"No, sit."
Lieutenant Kuznetzov was so surprised, she found herself sinking back down into her seat. Alara Hisarlik wasn't usually one to give orders - certainly not with that kind of steel in her voice. She sounded more like Captain Vasser than she did her usual, mild-mannered self.
"Excuse me?" the lieutenant said.
"What kind of counselor would I bet if I just let you walk out of here?" Alara tutted. She was smiling - it was meant to be warm, perhaps. Comforting. It didn't come across that way. "Lieutenant Kuznetzov, I'm deeply concerned for your mental well-being. Paranoid delusions, anxiety, uncertainty... we really must get to the bottom of this."
Lieutenant Kuznetzov flinched. She hadn't been prepared for such bluntness. "Perhaps you're right," she admitted.
Painful though it was to face up to it, her conviction that something was amiss aboard the Inyx was entirely undercut by her lack of evidence. Put another way... yes, she really did sound paranoid. She couldn't blame the ship's counselor for being firm when the moment called for it, she decided.
"Of course I am." Alara laughed. "I'm an expert. Now, please, get comfortable. We may need a little time."
She reached over to a small, wooden jewelry box that was resting on a nearby table. From within, the counselor produced what Lieutenant Kuzentzov just about recognized from historical photographs as a watch - the old, analog kind, worn in a pocket and attached by a chain. This one was gold, it seemed, with fine Roman numerals around the face, and when she strained her ears, the lieutenant could just about hear it tick.
"Do you know what this is?" Alara asked, touching the watch fondly. Her eyes were fixed on it.
"A family heirloom?" Lieutenant Kuznetzov guessed. From how she handled it, it was clear the pocket watch was of great significance to the counselor.
Alara just laughed, though. "Not at all!" she exclaimed, voice rich with humor. "It's just a replica. I had the ship's computer fabricate it for me recently. But it's based on something I saw in an old movie, while I was growing up. I remember being quite fascinated with it. It really awakened some things in me. Things I hadn't thought about in years - until very recently, in fact."
Lieutenant Kuznetzov shifted uncomfortably. How was this related to her counseling?
"Anyway." With a flourish, Alara lifted the watch into the air and dangled it by its chain as she sat back in her chair. "I'd like you to look at this, please."
"Why?" Lieutenant Kuznetzov asked, although she was already looking. The pocket watch had a way of catching the eye.
"Because I told you to."
The lieutenant blinked. She couldn't tell if Alara was joking.
"An external visual focus can often be conducive to the kind of mental state we want you to achieve in therapy," Alara explained after a moment. "That's why. But you really must trust me, lieutenant. We won't get very far if you keep asking 'why' like a precocious child. I know what I'm doing. Trust that your welfare is my highest priority."
Lieutenant Kuznetzov felt her choler rise at the reprimand, but she quickly reasoned herself out of anger. Alara had a point. She was the ship's counselor. It was natural to think that she knew what she was doing, and that she had the lieutenant's best interests at heart. Alara was probably a little offended she kept questioning her. Maybe Lieutenant Kuznetzov should try being a little more cooperative. After all, if she really was paranoid, she certainly needed Alara's help.
And if there really was some kind of conspiracy afoot, and if - as her instincts were telling her - Alara was now part of it?
Lieutenant Kuznetzov shook that thought off. It was all in her head.
"You're right," she said, after taking a few deep breaths. "My apologies."