Psychosomatic Concerns?

Posted on Thu Apr 17th, 2025 @ 8:16am by Lieutenant Tate Sullivan Ph.D.

Mission: Season 6: Echoes of the Zynari
Location: Tate Sullivan's Office, Deck 14, USS Elysium1
Timeline: MD 02, 12h00
535 words - 1.1 OF Standard Post Measure

Tate Sullivan sat with a practiced calm, her posture relaxed but attentive as she regarded the crewman seated across from her. Ensign Riley Morgan, a young human officer from engineering, looked pale beneath the standard-issue uniform. He rubbed his temple absently, eyes dull with fatigue.

“It’s nothing debilitating,” Riley was saying, “just this dull ache that won’t go away. And the dizziness—it’s not like the room is spinning, but sometimes it feels like I’m not entirely… grounded, you know?”

Tate offered a gentle smile and a nod. “I hear you. That sounds frustrating, especially when it lingers without a clear cause.”

Riley sighed. “Sickbay ran all the tests. Said I’m physically fine. Suggested I talk to you next.”

The fourth today, Tate noted silently, fingers laced loosely on her lap. She’d seen a Vulcan, a Trill, and a Tellarite earlier—all reporting similar symptoms. All cleared by medical.

The pattern was unnerving, not for the volume, but the variety. Different departments. Different species. No unknown shared experiences or stressors—at least, none that had surfaced yet.

Riley leaned forward slightly. “I don’t feel off emotionally, I guess? But I haven’t been sleeping as well lately. Figured it was the ship's latest shift in duty cycles. Or maybe just the stress of working overtime. Still… it’s starting to get to me.”

Tate nodded again, the concern buried in her own mind carefully masked by the calm of her counselor’s demeanor. “Sleep disruptions and stress can absolutely contribute to physical symptoms like yours,” she said gently. “Even mild depression or anxiety can manifest in ways we don’t always recognize. Sometimes, we’re under more pressure than we realize until our bodies start to raise the alarm.”

As she spoke, Tate couldn’t help but catalog what she knew: The Tellarite crewman had reported heightened irritability alongside his headache. Considering that describing a Tellarite as irritable was charitable on any given day, the fact that he had described his own irritability as heightened said a lot. The Vulcan had confessed—almost with embarrassment—to experiencing a subtle emotional dissonance. Now Riley, with his quiet dizziness and persistent ache.

Was it cumulative stress from deep space duty? Some subtle environmental factor not yet picked up by the sensors? Or something less tangible—group psychology playing out across species lines?

She refocused on Riley, offering him a reassuring smile. “For now, let’s work on what you can control. Start with your sleep—wind down thirty minutes earlier than usual. Minimize stim usage, even in the afternoon. When you wake up, do a quick self-check: note how you’re feeling, physically and emotionally. That mindfulness can help you spot patterns—and help us if this persists.”

He nodded slowly, relief flickering across his features. “Thanks, Counselor. Just talking about it helps.”

“I’m glad,” she said sincerely. “Remember, I’m here as often as you need.”

As he left, Tate’s smile faded slightly, her mind returning to the quiet mystery forming at the edges of crew reports and medical scans. She didn’t have answers—yet—but one thing was certain: she would keep listening and watching.