SPACE: 1999 YEAR 2

JOURNEY BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

SECTION TEN: Corridors and Thresholds

Several hours later, Maya stood in the center of her very own quarters, her arms wrapped lightly around herself as if unsure what to do with the stillness. Doctor Russell, it seemed, had been right about a few things. She was no longer alone, not entirely. Around her stood a small group of people. Strangers, yes. But perhaps, in time, they might become something more. Friends, even. Real ones.

The Commander and Tony had been perfect gentlemen, each carrying containers filled with clothing and necessities she hadn't known she needed. Helena had walked beside her the entire way, her presence both reassuring and unobtrusive.

Maya had listened carefully as they moved down the corridors, Helena offering gentle direction. Her new quarters, she had learned, were just a few doors down from Tony's. Even on the same side of the hall. Alan and some of the others were farther down and to the right. Helena and John were both to the left, around the bend.

The layout had made sense when Helena described it. Now, standing alone in this unfamiliar space, it felt like a maze carved into metal.

"I will never learn my way around," Maya said softly. It wasn't so much a complaint as it was a quiet, fearful confession.

Tony smiled. "Probably every one of us said something similar on our first day."

Helena nodded in agreement. "It really isn't complicated, just new to you Maya. There are lots of signs and if you ever get lost, you can use your commlock and ask one of us."

"We'll give you a tour Maya," John told her. "That way you can see the different sections and start meeting more people."

Maya's blue eyes widened, looking slightly fearful at the prospect of more people.

Sensing Maya's apprehension, Helena put her arm around Maya's shoulder. "Don't worry, we won't overwhelm you with too much at one time."

Maya looked thankfully at the doctor.

"Maya, would you and Tony like to share dinner, privately, with Helena and me tonight?" John offered.

Maya looked at Helena, uncertainty on her face.

Helena smiled. "I think that's a perfect idea. Not too much for her at one time," she said as she put her arm around the younger woman, giving her an encouraging hug.

"Good," John said.

"I tell you what," Helena said. "I'll help Maya put these things away and then we'll join you. Say about an hour?"

Koenig nodded. "Good. Tony and I have some things to review. We'll have dinner waiting for you ladies."

John and Tony departed, leaving the women alone.

Helena offered Maya a warm, reassuring smile. She could see the weight of everything pressing down on the Psychon and, though Russell's instinct was to comfort, she kept her tone bright and conversational in hopes of easing the moment.

"As you can see, the layout is pretty much the same as Tony's. Most of this section's residential quarters are similar, with only a few minor differences here and there."

Maya nodded absently, her gaze drifting across the room. The sterile furnishings, stark in their practicality, felt suffocating in their emptiness. It was similar to Tony's quarters in structure, but to her, it was a hollow echo. Where Tony's room had mirrored his energy and warmth, this space was cold and unyielding, untouched by personality or care.

Her chest tightened as a wave of longing swept through her. Thoughts of home – her bedroom filled with familiar comforts, the trinkets that told the story of her life – rose unbidden, threatening to crush her.

The ache grew sharper with every breath, a chasm widening within her. Maya shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to keep the tears at bay. Her throat constricted as she struggled to tamp down the emotions rising in her, but the isolation, the stark finality of what she had lost, gnawed at her resolve.

Helena noticed the tremble in Maya's shoulders, the way her hands clenched into small fists at her sides as though bracing against the storm within. Without hesitation, she closed the space between them and pulled the younger woman into a gentle embrace.

"It's going to be okay," Helena murmured softly, her voice steady but full of compassion. "Just give it time."

Maya remained still for a moment, her body stiff as she fought to keep from unraveling completely. Finally, she nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the floor, her words barely audible.

"I need to put this stuff away," she whispered, her voice fragile and trembling.

"Come on," Helena replied, guiding her gently toward the bed where the containers sat waiting. Her hand remained lightly on Maya's arm, a small gesture of steady comfort as they moved.

Maya let out a quiet sniffle, blinking rapidly to push back the tears that still threatened to fall. The emptiness of the room, of this new life she hadn't intentionally chosen, seemed to press down on her all over again. But for now, she focused on the small task ahead, a lifeline against the overwhelming sorrow.

Helena stayed by her side, her presence a quiet reminder that Maya wasn't entirely alone, even as the weight of her loss threatened to consume her.

John and Tony had made their way to Koenig's quarters in silence, the weight of their shared concern for Maya filling the space between them. John moved with his usual deliberate precision, pouring two mugs of coffee. He handed one to Tony before settling into the chair across from him.

"Well," John began, his voice calm but edged with curiosity as he studied the younger man. "You've been spending a lot of time with Maya. Thoughts?"

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his posture signaling genuine interest in Tony's perspective.

Tony cradled the mug in his hands, staring into its depths for a moment as though searching for answers in the swirling liquid. He took a slow sip, his brow furrowing before he set the mug down with care.

"I don't know, John," he said finally, his tone heavy with uncertainty. He rubbed the back of his neck, a small, restless gesture that betrayed his discomfort. "She's young, she's terrified... I don't even want to imagine what's going through her mind right now."

John nodded, his eyes narrowing as he leaned back slightly in his chair. "It's a stark contrast to the girl we first saw on Psychon," he said, his voice tinged with quiet reflection. "She was confident, defiant. Hell, she was unyielding when we tried to tell her the truth about Mentor. She's definitely sharp and spirited."

A faint smile flickered across Tony's face, but his eyes remained shadowed by concern. "So, underneath all the trauma and grief, we've got an alien woman with spunk."

John's lips curved into a brief smile at Tony's remark, but the levity didn't linger. He straightened, his expression growing serious as he asked, "Tony, you've got some psychology background. How do we help her?"

Tony sighed, his gaze dropping to the coffee in his hands.

"Grief's never simple," he said, his voice low. "But she's taken it to an entirely new level of complicated."

He took a slow sip. "Nothing in my education ever covered someone losing their entire home planet."

John didn't respond right away. His eyes narrowed slightly, not in doubt, but in memory. He knew grief. Intimately. The kind that carved itself deep and silent. The kind that waited for a time when the lights had been turned off and the air was still.

He leaned back in the chair, the mug forgotten in his hand.

"Meaning?" he asked at last, the word quiet, weighted, but steady.

"There are a lot of layers she's dealing with… will have to deal with," Tony replied, his voice softening, tempered with empathy. "Grief, guilt, trauma. It's all tied together."

John exhaled slowly, the sound quietly heavy, as if he'd been holding it for a while. He didn't say it out loud, he rarely did. But he understood it all too well. The nightmare of it. The ache that never quite left.

"For starters," Tony continued, "it isn't just grief. It's the guilt and the trauma wrapped inside it…"

He paused as he began to outline his thoughts.

"You said she was confident, defiant and spirited when you met her. Those qualities are still there, just buried under everything she's been through. Whether she admits it or not, she's probably questioning her judgement, her beliefs…even her intelligence. And that's just scratching the surface. We could talk for hours about the possible questions and doubts running through her mind right now."

John leaned back, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of his chair as he processed Tony's words. "So, how do we help her reconnect with those qualities?" he asked, his tone quieter now, as though weighing the fragility of the task ahead.

Tony leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he thought carefully before answering. "We have to be patient. Let her set the pace, but we also need to remind her, gently, of who she is. She needs to know we see her for more than her loss. That we see her."

Tony took another sip of coffee before continuing. "I'm sure you're familiar with Kübler-Ross's five stages of grief," he said, studying John's face carefully. Knowing the Commander's background, Verdeschi was unsure if this was safe territory to bring into the conversation. Sensing Koenig seemed at ease, for the moment, Tony continued.

"It's a foundational model, not a perfect one but a starting point. Maya will eventually come to terms with things and start moving forward. Can I give you a timeline? No," Tony added, shaking his head. "For that, you might want to consult Spencer. He's got both the MD and psych PhD, worked specifically in clinical psychology for several years."

John sighed. He was all too damn familiar with that grief model; had heard hours of supposed beneficial sessions centered around it and other models as well. He shook his head, mentally pushing those old memories of his much younger self and life as far back in the dark corners of his mind as he possibly could.

"Any ideas on how to help her," he asked Verdeschi.

Tony paused, considering his response. "She needs to find her place here on Alpha," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Keeping her engaged will be crucial. She has to rediscover her self-worth and rebuild her confidence."

He looked at John seriously before continuing.

"Honestly John, she'll need to reinvent herself. The girl she was on Psychon is gone. If we can surround her with the right support and people, I think she'll eventually be okay. It just may not be quick," Verdeschi paused. "You know that, John," he said in a quieter, respectful tone.

Koenig nodded. "Yeah, Tony, I do," he admitted. He knew that only too damn well. He picked up his cup and took a slow sip of coffee, tapping the side of the mug with his fingers as an idea came to mind.

"Tony, before you came to Alpha, they were still doing all those grueling qualifying tests and evals, weren't they?"

Verdeschi grimaced, a shiver of discomfort passing over his face. "Oh, they were brutal." He leaned back, crossing his arms as if trying to shield himself from the memory.

"Some of those tests might be a good place to start," John suggested, his gaze firm but thoughtful. "We could gauge her aptitudes – her strengths, weaknesses. Could help us find a place for her."

He met Tony's dark eyes with a determined look, as if he had already made up his mind.

Tony looked dubious, his eyes narrowing and his mouth twitching into a small frown. "Put her through those, and she'll end up hating us all."

He shook his head slightly, his expression a mix of concern and resignation.

"Got any better ideas?" Koenig asked, his tone challenging as he leaned forward, his fingers drumming lightly on the tabletop.

Tony shook his head. He met John's gaze with a resigned expression.

"Not a bloody clue."

"All finished," Helena said with a bright, reassuring smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth.

Maya nodded, her gaze shifting momentarily to Helena's commlock as it beeped. Helena lifted the device to her face, her lips curling into a smile as John's tiny image appeared on the screen.

"You ladies ready for dinner?" John's voice crackled through the device.

"Give us about ten minutes," Helena responded, her tone light and upbeat.

"We'll be here," John replied, his image fading from the screen as the call ended.

"Well, Maya, shall we go?" Helena asked, her voice tinged with enthusiasm.

Maya's face betrayed a flicker of hesitation, her brow slightly furrowed. Helena, noticing this, reached out and gently took Maya's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"It's okay, Maya," Helena said soothingly, her eyes softening. "It's just a simple, quiet meal with just us."

Maya's lips parted slightly; her expression thoughtful. "We have to walk there," she said slowly, her voice filled with concern at the thought of actually going out into the corridors of Alpha.

Helena chuckled softly, a playful glint in her eyes. "Yes, we do, and yes, you'll be fine. I'll be walking right with you."

Maya's lips curved into a grateful smile, her tension easing just a bit.

"Oh," Helena suddenly exclaimed, her eyes widening in realization. "Can I use your bathroom mirror?"

Maya looked puzzled but nodded. "Yes."

Helena slipped into the bathroom, her movements quick and purposeful. "I have to fluff the hair," she said with a light-hearted giggle that echoed off the bathroom walls.

Maya walked over to the door, her gaze shifting to Helena, who was now busy adjusting her hair in front of the mirror.

She watched as Helena's fingers worked deftly, fluffing her hair here, patting it there, her reflection in the mirror showing a mix of concentration and amusement. She then delicately traced her finger over her lips, ensuring her light application of lipstick was still in place.

Maya couldn't help but giggle, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I'm sure that the Commander will think that you are quite beautiful, no matter if your hair is fluffed or not."

Helena shrugged, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I know, I'm being silly."

"I don't think so," Maya replied earnestly. "I think the two of you look wonderful together. Perhaps someday you will tell me how you both met?"

"Thank you, Maya and yes, someday I will have to tell you all about that," Helena said, her smile broadening. "Come on, let's get going before Tony sends out a search party."

"A search party?" Maya shook her head, a puzzled look still on her face. "Someday I will understand your language?"

Russell laughed, a warm, infectious sound. "You will, give it time."