USS Galileo :: A Chaplain's Duty
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A Chaplain's Duty

Posted on 29 Jul 2024 @ 6:33pm by Lieutenant JG Hovar Kov

2,158 words; about a 11 minute read

[ON]

“And the Angel of the Lord declared unto Mary, and she conceived of the Holy Spirit.”

Those were the words spoken from a rather unusual source. It came from a Klingon, who would have been the last person to speak the prayer in question. However, there he was, muttering the prayer in the very public mess hall. While he was like any other officer in Star Fleet, he certainly did not look it in terms of his uniform. While the jump suit was like everyone else, he was not wearing the typical green of the Medical department except for the sleeves.

Then again, he was no Counselor, he was a priest, a Chaplain. Because of that, he wore the black clerical collar, with the white tab in front of his neck. This made him rather unique among the officers present. What made him even more unique, on top of everything else, was that he was very much a Klingon. A Klingon Chaplain was a rare combination. A Klingon Catholic Chaplain was even rarer. Perhaps the most unique thing about him was that there was a tall cup of chilled pomegranate juice, which he fell in love with when he would visit Earth.

As he concluded the prayer, and his drink, he stood up, recycled his cup, he made his way through the corridors of the USS Yuron, on his way to Holodeck 4. The powers that be wanted everyone get continuing education before they reached their duty stations. During the voyage, Holodeck 4 was used as a classroom for continuing education. Some of it was elective, others were mandatory. Even though he was a Chaplain, he was still a Star Fleet Officer, and he was expected to provide said education to enlisted personnel, especially those fresh out of their A and C schools. During the 6 month transit, the Chaplain volunteered to be a part time instructor to "earn his keep."

Some of his classes were focused on spiritual care that was aimed at the new doctors and counselors who were fresh from the Academy. His once a week course, much to his dismay, was rarely taught among the rank and file outside of Star Fleet Medical. Therefore, when he entered the Holodeck, was was not surprised when he heard one of the Crewmen Apprentices shout out,

“Attention on deck!”

Instantly, a group of about thirty eager individuals stand at attention. Just as instantly as they stood at attention, Hovar immediately spoke out,

“At ease. At ease.”

His deep bass voice gently rang through the Holodeck, and it somehow managed to catch everyone off guard. When the Chaplain turned around to look at them, he could see the subtle surprise in their eyes. He was more then used to that. After all, it was not common for a Klingon Chaplain to be standing in a Star Fleet uniform, especially teaching a course on psychological first aid. After all, the very premise of a Klingon teaching people who to properly process the horrors of trauma seems highly unlikely.

“I am Chaplain Hovar Kor. You may call me Chaplain, Father, Padre, but never Sir or Lieutenant. This course is already going to be difficult, and I do not want you to think that I will make things more difficult for you. Understood?”

The Crewmen all acknowledge him, and Hovar began to go over the course. He took a quick look at the assembled students. All of them were either Crewman or Crewman Apprentices, which gave Hovar some hope. It wasn’t because they were brand new or whatever, but with everything being taught something that Hovar thought would be very useful and vital for the rest of their careers. Then again, it could also be the case that they were only doing this to further their careers.

If that was their reason, they will need all the training they can get in this course.

“This course, Psychological First Aid, is to provide you with the training and the techniques to treat the wounds that are unseen. These wounds, if left untreated, will fester and grow like a cancer. It will cloud your minds, impair your judgments, twist the very fabric of what makes you an individual. Again, if this cancer is left unchecked, if you ignore the symptoms, if you deny its very existence…”

His voice slowed down as he spoke the following words, already seeing some of his pupils look uneasy. This was his clue that the training he was about to teach was something that they did not have when they encountered their traumas. This saddened him not just as a Star Fleet officer, but as a priest.

“It will not just consume you. It will consume everyone who you love and respect: your shipmates, your family, everyone.”

Hovar absolutely hated this course, and for a selfish reason. The entirely of Hovar’s profession as to bring someone from the depths of Hell and to bring them back to the light. Hovar wanted to be there for everyone, yet he knew he could not. He knew he could not be everywhere at once, only the Almighty could perform such a feat. Therefore, he had to teach as many as he could on how to bring others from the brink.

“When you encounter something traumatic, which God willing it doesn’t happen any time soon, it can happen in a variety of ways. It can be something as simple as finding out that you have been overlooked for a promotion; or, it can be something much more profound as finding out that all of your friends have been killed in battle. The circumstances are irrelevant.”

Hovar paused, watching everyone process what he was saying. Hovar, also wanted to make sure he was not preaching.

“In this course, you will learn to identify psychological stress not only among yourselves, but more importantly, among each other. You will learn how to approach them, to introduce yourself, to pay attention and listen to them, to understand their feelings, to calm them in crisis, to ask about their needs and concerns, and how to help them with their immediate needs and try to solve the problem yourselves. Questions?”

One person, a Vulcan Engineer, spoke up.

“Chaplain, when you say “to introduce yourself”: wouldn’t it be logical that the casualty is already familiar with you so introductions are not necessary?”

Hovar nodded and smiled.

“What is your name?”

The Vulcan replied,

“Crewman Apprentice T’Nal.”

“Thank you, Mr. T’Nal for the good question. Yes, it would be logical that the casualty would already know you. However, when one encounters something traumatic, they do one of three things: they fight, they fly, or they freeze. They are not thinking logically as a Vulcan would understand. Think of it as being stuck in a loop, where they are trapped within their own bodily responses. When I said that trauma can come in a variety of ways, so can one’s responses to a trauma. If someone is in the fight response, holding them down would not be the appropriate response as that can add to the trauma. You have to approach them a certain way and introduce yourself as a friend to help get them out of that response. Any other questions?”

Another crewman raised her hand, a, Orion this time. She seemed to have gotten it through her head that Hovar would ask for her name.

“Crewman Olivia Tarn. I noticed on the registration that this course is spread across six weeks. Why is that?”

Hovar nodded in understanding.

“Ms. Tarn, thank you for the question, a question that I asked my superiors when I got this assignment.”

Hovar motioned for them to come closer, not as students, but more or less as equals.

“Because this course, by design, is to make all of you very uncomfortable. Each simulation is designed to make you educate you on what to expect for the real examination, not just to pass this course and gain the credits, but the examination when one of your shipmates, one of your friends, goes down. Traumas never fully heal, we carry them for the rest of our lives. The point I want to make is that each and every single one of you can help each other.”

At no point did Hovar raise his voice or make any attempt to sound like an officer or an instructor. It was a bit hypocritical because Hovar was both in that instance. Instead, Hovar wanted them to understand and to treat each other with a bond that can only be forged by shared experiences and clinging to each other when the have no one to cling to. With that in mind, he turned to the Orion with a gentle glance.

“Ms. Tarn, you could observe that Mr. T’Nal has not been able to process what happened, and will need the assistance of a more senior Vulcan to do a mind meld.”

In equal turn, Hovar shifted his face, and his eyes, over at T’Nal.

“Or, Mr. T’Nal, you will need to be a welcoming ear, and listen to Ms. Tarn’s problems, which just might be all she needs: a non-judgmental person who will just listen so she can unload her thoughts.”

Hovar then saw something, he saw everyone look at each other. It was the realization of them not looking to themselves, but to look to each other. That is what Hovar wanted them to realize right at the start, to look to each other. When he started talking, everyone turned their attention back to him.

“There is also the possibility that the best help you can provide is to find a Chaplain like me or a Counselor. Again, this is First Aid, not Last Aid. Sometimes, traumas need months, or even years, of therapy to be able to just process what happened. Even if you do it to yourselves, you will need to have the honesty, and the bravery, to be able to raise your hand and say that you are not okay and you need help. It will also take bravery for you to tell a friend that they need to seek help, even if it costs you a friendship.”

Hovar smiled as he spoke this and opened his arms slightly.

“We are shipmates, before any other rank. We can face any danger so long as we do it together. You will need time to process your own emotions, you will need time to properly study the materials, and you will need time, most importantly, to meditate how this can improve your own lives and help you out as individuals.”

Hovar then went down to his PADD, and he tried to load the simulation, and to his horror, the PADD was not connecting to the Holodeck.

“Uh oh…”

Hovar kept trying to connect the PADD as he was taught to, but there was some kind of connectivity error. He tried for a minute or so, and it was very clear that Hovar was not doing this for show. Rather…

“I’m a Chaplain, not a…Mr. T’Nall, you’re an Engineer. Can you show me how to…”

T’Nall blinked a few times, and then he approached the Chaplain as they did rudimentary tech support. Hovar spoke in a hushed tone while T’Nall also spoke in a tone.

“I was told to do this, and this, and that……….you see I tried that…….oh that is how it is done…….perfect thank you.”

Hovar stood with confidence again while T’Nall resumed his post.

“Now, since I believe in learning by doing, we will jump right in learning how to approach a variety of different types of traumatic responses.”

He tapped a few commands on his now synced PADD to load the simulations.

“Computer, load program Hovar-1A.”

The holodeck transformed into a more simple simulation. There was no explosions or evidence of some catastrophic apocalypse; rather, it was a very basic simulation. After all, Hovar couldn’t plunge them into the deep end at first. It was a basic mess hall, and all there was to see was an individual in Tactical colors, a human male to be precise, and he could give a Vulcan a run for his money on an expressionless face.

“This is one of your shipmates. He is a complete stranger. You do not know his name, nor does he know yours. All you know is what you see. This course is just based on the approach and introducing yourself. You have no idea what they are going through, and after each turn of you, the circumstances, and location, will change. After each turn, we will contemplate what went right, and/or wrong, and trade notes.”

Hovar had a smile on his face as he was genuinely excited for what was going to happen.

“Now, who would like to go first?”

[OFF]

 

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