“I’m sorry for your loss, Captain,” he said. “I too lost a lot of a starship, the Zhen’tharn. I lost a lot of … friends.”

He took the PADD from the Captain and awkwardly looked over it, but he could not really focus on the list of other activities.

“Captain?” he asked in a sincere tone. “You never get over that kind of loss, do you?”

Starfleet counselors had diagnosed him as having survivor’s guilt, but Syth was not sure that was what it was. He knew how to suppress the emotions and continue on as normal. His clean bill of health was just a facade.

Aakon gazed off into the distance. He could almost smell the acrid smoke of the burning bridge again. “No, no you do not. It sits with you for the rest of your life.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he had paved over the trauma of loosing the Resnik. The councilors that Starfleet had spread throughout the fleet had give him their thumbs up for returning to service but they had been overworked; desperate to process through the sheer amount of officers who needed their help. The fleet still had to operate after all.

Aakon turned his gaze back to the Vulcan. “I’m sorry for your loss. It’s a trauma I wish had been inflicted on no one.” He paused for a moment to consider his next words. “The only advice I can offer is to lean on your fellow officers as needed. We know all too well the trauma of loss.”

Aakon raised his glass slightly. ” In the meantime we just need to do our best to remember those we lost and promise to do better next time.