As I settle in to my new quarters here aboard the Vigilant, I find myself trying to find the perfect place for the picture of my parents. It was taken on Betazed when they were married. They look so perfectly happy and its one of the few things I take with me from command to command.
Perhaps it's odd, but I like to move on with as few belongings as possible, cleanse myself of built up baggage from over the years as I go to another duty station. I've seen families move with massive amounts of belongings, and I wonder how they manage to make it all fit in the quarters of a starship, even one of the larger ones.
But that's neither here nor there. I tried my desk, and I found that their pristine, unsullied happiness staring at me distracted me from my work. Somehow, I couldn't focus on the day to day minutiae of personnel with my parents' smiling faces turned towards me. I hung it from the wall in my bedroom. It felt like they were watching me sleep. At first, it was a comfort, and then it just became strange.
It is so nice to have privacy away from home that I just couldn't leave them there. So now they're on the little table next to the seating arrangement. So far, so good. I can't see them while I work and they can't see me while I sleep.
Now that they're in place, I can finally start to feel like this is a home to me. Even after the ship's inspection, even after all the little education tests the Captain has thrown at me, it was this gesture that finally added it all together. Funny how we have to find a way to mark something as our own.
Now, where was that paper on interspecies humor and communications I was looking for?
9 Likes
We are coming up every day upon the court martial. So much seems to ride on this event. Even our science mission seems overshadowed by the ever-present concern for the Captains who are facing this serious matter.
The crew seems focused on the mission--concerned even, with the situation of the nebula and the potential for the radiation spikes within it. Our senior Science Officer and Lieutenant Jerenzik seem to have worked out a method for protecting us from the worst of any risks that may be a part of our study here. That leaves me to do little more than approve personnel shifts and monitor the situation. That, however, leaves me plenty of time to consider this court martial.
I've met one of the accused Captains. She's a lovely person. It doesn't help at all. I've never seen a court martial before, so I don't know if her personality type will have any impact. I didn't sense any sort of rash, impulsive thinking that would lead me to suspect she was unsuitable for the rank and position she holds. I'm aware of what she's accused. I'm aware of the fact that she disobeyed orders.
Would I have done any differently? With the pressure of people needlessly dying from attacks that could be stopped? Weren't we already interfering, in a way, by creating a blockade in the first place? My knowledge of the situation comes with the knowledge of the consequences, the knowledge that my actions would not have saved anyone and would have cost the lives of my crew members. How much does the intention versus the outcome weigh? I need to make my own decision on the matter, first.
All this leaves me with one, inescapable conclusion. This is not going to be an easy, or simple, court martial.
The crew seems focused on the mission--concerned even, with the situation of the nebula and the potential for the radiation spikes within it. Our senior Science Officer and Lieutenant Jerenzik seem to have worked out a method for protecting us from the worst of any risks that may be a part of our study here. That leaves me to do little more than approve personnel shifts and monitor the situation. That, however, leaves me plenty of time to consider this court martial.
I've met one of the accused Captains. She's a lovely person. It doesn't help at all. I've never seen a court martial before, so I don't know if her personality type will have any impact. I didn't sense any sort of rash, impulsive thinking that would lead me to suspect she was unsuitable for the rank and position she holds. I'm aware of what she's accused. I'm aware of the fact that she disobeyed orders.
Would I have done any differently? With the pressure of people needlessly dying from attacks that could be stopped? Weren't we already interfering, in a way, by creating a blockade in the first place? My knowledge of the situation comes with the knowledge of the consequences, the knowledge that my actions would not have saved anyone and would have cost the lives of my crew members. How much does the intention versus the outcome weigh? I need to make my own decision on the matter, first.
All this leaves me with one, inescapable conclusion. This is not going to be an easy, or simple, court martial.
9 Likes
I am reminded at times like these to take the time to log my thoughts and feelings. I suppose I should do it more often, considering how complex things are and how often my feelings evolve or change regarding any given circumstance. It's been too long, really. But I always seems to forget, or I have better things to do, or any number of excuses I can make for myself that make it so that I forget or postpone yet another log entry. After all, I can't seem to put out of my mind that not only can I go over these to refresh my own memory, but should something happen to me, these records will be available to someone else to read. I don't even know who. That's a little unsettling. But I should try to put that aside and remind myself of the highlights of what's been going on, so that I don't forget what has been happening to me. After all, some of this is actually important, and I don't want to forget the reasoning behind these changes.
I wasn't the first officer of the Vigilant for very long. Shortly after my transfer, we received orders to take command of a new vessel while the Vigilant put into dry dock for an overhaul. So, now I'm the first officer of the U.S.S. Dryzaak. She's a massive vessel. Practically a space station that flies. Her crew complement isn't much different from the Vigilant, so that aspect of my duties hasn't changed all that much, thankfully. It's still a huge number of people to handle and a rather intimidating assignment. However, I find myself becoming used to it, even getting to know people. The habitual troublemakers, the ones who never mean to get into trouble who always do... as well as the outstanding individuals who always come to my attention because of their exemplary service. I'm learning more about each department's difficulties, and the personalities of those who run them. In the end, I'm getting to know the crew as best I can, little by little. I doubt I'll ever be completely familiar with the entire crew, there's two thousand of them.
Here's how we accomplished this. The majority of the crew that was being assigned to the Dryzaak took some shore leave on Risa while we took the Vigilant back to Earth. There, we picked up the rest of the crew, and the ship itself. Making our way back to Risa, the crew that didn't get shore leave did, coincidentally matching the time of DS-13's shore leave! It was great, because I finally got a chance to get to know a bunch of the starbase personnel, as well as other ship's crews affiliated with the 38th fleet. I even got to meet one or two people from the Zenas Expeditionary Force. That was a treat! The remaining crew who had already had their shore leave got to run the drills that the rest of us already did. Of course, the Captain and I took our turns up top with that crew, too. We didn't just spend all of our time vacationing.
Which brings me to my vacation itself. It was... educational. I don't think I'll be going back to Risa again in the near future. There were some pleasant experiences, but just enough unpleasant and awkward ones that I think I'll be avoiding its particular atmosphere. If it were just sun and swimming, perhaps I'd reconsider, but there's so much more to that lovely planet, and yet, it's a bit too much for me. I learned a few lessons that I wouldn't trade for the world, but I'd just as soon not go back. However, it was restful enough--let's face it, I had too much free time--that I'm ready and eager to continue with my duties. I have been working hard and happy to do so. Every so often I get to visit Deep Space Thirteen and that's nice, too.
One thing I won't regret is getting to meet all of the new people, getting to know so many of them, and the couple of very good friends I made. I wouldn't trade that for anything, even if there are some things I'd have done differently.
I learned a very good lesson. No matter what I do, people are going to expect one thing from me, and it would be very foolish of me to try and pretend, out of politeness, to be anything other than what I am, and what I am capable of. I thought, perhaps, to be... I guess discreet is the word I am looking for. Turns out that it causes more trouble than it helps. My mother would be delighted right now. She always thought my methods were foolish. Guess she was right.
Now, that sort of thinking is ridiculous. It's logged so that I recall the reasons why I chose the path I'm stepping foot on, but now it is out of my system. No self-pity. No more apologetic attempts at false privacy. Just a blunt honesty without shame. This should make personnel reviews interesting...
I wasn't the first officer of the Vigilant for very long. Shortly after my transfer, we received orders to take command of a new vessel while the Vigilant put into dry dock for an overhaul. So, now I'm the first officer of the U.S.S. Dryzaak. She's a massive vessel. Practically a space station that flies. Her crew complement isn't much different from the Vigilant, so that aspect of my duties hasn't changed all that much, thankfully. It's still a huge number of people to handle and a rather intimidating assignment. However, I find myself becoming used to it, even getting to know people. The habitual troublemakers, the ones who never mean to get into trouble who always do... as well as the outstanding individuals who always come to my attention because of their exemplary service. I'm learning more about each department's difficulties, and the personalities of those who run them. In the end, I'm getting to know the crew as best I can, little by little. I doubt I'll ever be completely familiar with the entire crew, there's two thousand of them.
Here's how we accomplished this. The majority of the crew that was being assigned to the Dryzaak took some shore leave on Risa while we took the Vigilant back to Earth. There, we picked up the rest of the crew, and the ship itself. Making our way back to Risa, the crew that didn't get shore leave did, coincidentally matching the time of DS-13's shore leave! It was great, because I finally got a chance to get to know a bunch of the starbase personnel, as well as other ship's crews affiliated with the 38th fleet. I even got to meet one or two people from the Zenas Expeditionary Force. That was a treat! The remaining crew who had already had their shore leave got to run the drills that the rest of us already did. Of course, the Captain and I took our turns up top with that crew, too. We didn't just spend all of our time vacationing.
Which brings me to my vacation itself. It was... educational. I don't think I'll be going back to Risa again in the near future. There were some pleasant experiences, but just enough unpleasant and awkward ones that I think I'll be avoiding its particular atmosphere. If it were just sun and swimming, perhaps I'd reconsider, but there's so much more to that lovely planet, and yet, it's a bit too much for me. I learned a few lessons that I wouldn't trade for the world, but I'd just as soon not go back. However, it was restful enough--let's face it, I had too much free time--that I'm ready and eager to continue with my duties. I have been working hard and happy to do so. Every so often I get to visit Deep Space Thirteen and that's nice, too.
One thing I won't regret is getting to meet all of the new people, getting to know so many of them, and the couple of very good friends I made. I wouldn't trade that for anything, even if there are some things I'd have done differently.
I learned a very good lesson. No matter what I do, people are going to expect one thing from me, and it would be very foolish of me to try and pretend, out of politeness, to be anything other than what I am, and what I am capable of. I thought, perhaps, to be... I guess discreet is the word I am looking for. Turns out that it causes more trouble than it helps. My mother would be delighted right now. She always thought my methods were foolish. Guess she was right.
Now, that sort of thinking is ridiculous. It's logged so that I recall the reasons why I chose the path I'm stepping foot on, but now it is out of my system. No self-pity. No more apologetic attempts at false privacy. Just a blunt honesty without shame. This should make personnel reviews interesting...
2 Likes
Here we are again. It's been a good few weeks. I am happy. It seems odd to just outright say it, but I am. We're on a mission, we've seen some action, and it's going as smoothly as one could hope. I didn't screw up my first away mission as the XO, either. Although I think I'm never going to forget those particular Vulcans.
I started working on a new project. It's a surprise. I haven't done anything like this in a while, so I can't promise the result is going to be any good. My hands haven't practiced this kind of endeavour in so long, I've almost forgotten how its done.
There isn't really all that much going on. I just wanted to add a few mentions before things got crazy again. The strange Vulcan ship is repaired and on its way again. The pirate youths are in custody and... well, I'm supposed to go investigate them and see what I can pick up in addition to the psych evals and the medical evals and all of the interviews they will be getting. See if they can be integrated into Federation society I guess. They're young enough still, I would hazard.
I guess that covers everything. I need to write my parents...
I started working on a new project. It's a surprise. I haven't done anything like this in a while, so I can't promise the result is going to be any good. My hands haven't practiced this kind of endeavour in so long, I've almost forgotten how its done.
There isn't really all that much going on. I just wanted to add a few mentions before things got crazy again. The strange Vulcan ship is repaired and on its way again. The pirate youths are in custody and... well, I'm supposed to go investigate them and see what I can pick up in addition to the psych evals and the medical evals and all of the interviews they will be getting. See if they can be integrated into Federation society I guess. They're young enough still, I would hazard.
I guess that covers everything. I need to write my parents...
3 Likes
The visual log opens to display Beylara seated at her desk, leaning back in her chair. In one hand is a small object, in the other a whittling blade. Her hands move continuously as she speaks. At first, her voice is calm, even faintly coloured with amusement.
It's been too long. Not that there's been much to talk about. I'm getting better at horseback riding--although its a technical skill on the holodeck and I wouldn't dare try it on a real horse. Even if we didn't take into account the fact that its mind is real at that point, I know that their temperament is a lot more unpredictable than a politely programmed mount.
We haven't had much to write home about, or even to write a report about. It's been drills and more drills, reviews and reports of reviews. The shakedown this crew is getting is more thorough than any I've ever seen. By the time we see something else interesting we'll be so accustomed to working together it should run smooth as silk--from a personnel perspective anyway.
Her expression sobers, her lips purse thoughtfully for a moment. When she speaks again, there's a hint of sadness to her voice. Tension tightens her shoulders and she straightens up, her hands falling still for a moment.
Speaking of personnel. There's been a bit of a change. Quite an important one. Captain Tyranthor departed for a temporary assignment elsewhere. I couldn't tell you where, I don't know. But that leaves us with a bit of a hole; a large, large hole. One that command is going to have to fill one way or another. I guess we'll see if the months of work is what they wanted or if they want the time in service.
I won't lie and say it's tempting to hope that they ask me to take the big chair. At the same time, it's terrifying. I haven't got the time in; I'm not exactly first choice for a Captain's seat. However, since this is a temporary assignment, and I do know the crew and ship better than anyone but Tyranthor himself, there's a chance they'll order me to step up and try to fill his shoes instead.
For the time being, I'm keeping things running quietly and efficiently until they reach a decision.
Beylara takes a long, ragged breath, and lets it out slowly. Another slow sigh and tension bleeds from her; she returns to her original leaning position and her hands take up the small movements they were doing before. If watched closely, she appears to be using the blade on the other object in her hand, but the small thing is held rather closely, it can't quite be identified yet. Shavings fall onto the desk. A small smile tugs at her lips and her expression softens into something happier.
Personally, I must say that things are... good. I've been working a lot with Emery on things that have caused me problems--actively entering another person's mind, for one. He doesn't flinch anymore, which helps, and I don't feel like I'm invading as much anymore. Especially not as he's willing and I'm trying to be helpful. It's almost like being home, learning things about someone so directly rather than having to speak it all out.
Not that there haven't been difficulties.
For the briefest moment, she looks haunted. As though the sun of her joy slipped behind a cloud for just a second. With a shake of her head, as if clearing her own thoughts, she brightens again.
I wouldn't intrude on another mind on that level without permission--or dire need--normally. But it's helped me to accept what I sense on a day to day basis as just something that's there. The lesson I learned on Risa still echoes back to me; a lesson taught to me by a very dear friend.
I just have another lesson to process now. Don't be so blinded by what I don't have, that I miss what I do. Perfection is impossible, but if you allow the imperfections to eat at you, you will surely lose what happiness you have gained from what is good.
She nods in a quick, firm motion. Now, she looks determined. Then, Beylara straightens again and leans towards the monitor.
I'm not going to let what I can't have eat at me anymore. I have more than I dreamed of a few short months ago--plenty of friends, a command I respect with a ship I am honored to serve on, and even a personal life! My mother would be so proud of me right now. I haven't told her anything yet, because I don't want her to jump to any conclusions. But she's certainly a person who believes in a work-life balance. More so than my father or I ever have. I still haven't figured out how she managed to get him to leave work long enough to be married.
With that particular distraction, Beylara realizes she's beginning to ramble. A short laugh and she leans back again.
I think I've covered everything I want to remember right now.
Computer, end personal log entry.
It's been too long. Not that there's been much to talk about. I'm getting better at horseback riding--although its a technical skill on the holodeck and I wouldn't dare try it on a real horse. Even if we didn't take into account the fact that its mind is real at that point, I know that their temperament is a lot more unpredictable than a politely programmed mount.
We haven't had much to write home about, or even to write a report about. It's been drills and more drills, reviews and reports of reviews. The shakedown this crew is getting is more thorough than any I've ever seen. By the time we see something else interesting we'll be so accustomed to working together it should run smooth as silk--from a personnel perspective anyway.
Her expression sobers, her lips purse thoughtfully for a moment. When she speaks again, there's a hint of sadness to her voice. Tension tightens her shoulders and she straightens up, her hands falling still for a moment.
Speaking of personnel. There's been a bit of a change. Quite an important one. Captain Tyranthor departed for a temporary assignment elsewhere. I couldn't tell you where, I don't know. But that leaves us with a bit of a hole; a large, large hole. One that command is going to have to fill one way or another. I guess we'll see if the months of work is what they wanted or if they want the time in service.
I won't lie and say it's tempting to hope that they ask me to take the big chair. At the same time, it's terrifying. I haven't got the time in; I'm not exactly first choice for a Captain's seat. However, since this is a temporary assignment, and I do know the crew and ship better than anyone but Tyranthor himself, there's a chance they'll order me to step up and try to fill his shoes instead.
For the time being, I'm keeping things running quietly and efficiently until they reach a decision.
Beylara takes a long, ragged breath, and lets it out slowly. Another slow sigh and tension bleeds from her; she returns to her original leaning position and her hands take up the small movements they were doing before. If watched closely, she appears to be using the blade on the other object in her hand, but the small thing is held rather closely, it can't quite be identified yet. Shavings fall onto the desk. A small smile tugs at her lips and her expression softens into something happier.
Personally, I must say that things are... good. I've been working a lot with Emery on things that have caused me problems--actively entering another person's mind, for one. He doesn't flinch anymore, which helps, and I don't feel like I'm invading as much anymore. Especially not as he's willing and I'm trying to be helpful. It's almost like being home, learning things about someone so directly rather than having to speak it all out.
Not that there haven't been difficulties.
For the briefest moment, she looks haunted. As though the sun of her joy slipped behind a cloud for just a second. With a shake of her head, as if clearing her own thoughts, she brightens again.
I wouldn't intrude on another mind on that level without permission--or dire need--normally. But it's helped me to accept what I sense on a day to day basis as just something that's there. The lesson I learned on Risa still echoes back to me; a lesson taught to me by a very dear friend.
I just have another lesson to process now. Don't be so blinded by what I don't have, that I miss what I do. Perfection is impossible, but if you allow the imperfections to eat at you, you will surely lose what happiness you have gained from what is good.
She nods in a quick, firm motion. Now, she looks determined. Then, Beylara straightens again and leans towards the monitor.
I'm not going to let what I can't have eat at me anymore. I have more than I dreamed of a few short months ago--plenty of friends, a command I respect with a ship I am honored to serve on, and even a personal life! My mother would be so proud of me right now. I haven't told her anything yet, because I don't want her to jump to any conclusions. But she's certainly a person who believes in a work-life balance. More so than my father or I ever have. I still haven't figured out how she managed to get him to leave work long enough to be married.
With that particular distraction, Beylara realizes she's beginning to ramble. A short laugh and she leans back again.
I think I've covered everything I want to remember right now.
Computer, end personal log entry.
7 Likes
The log opens once again and Beylara is pictured there, uniform jacket opened partway down, exposing the red undershirt. Her eyes were a little wide around the edges and she stares directly at the camera for just a moment before leaning forward to rest her chin on both hands. There are faint circles under her eyes, a hallmark of sleepless nights.
Personal log -
Well, it did happen after all. I am now the Acting Captain of the U.S.S. Dryzaak. I have to pick a first officer and get us back out on patrol as soon as possible. Not much else to say about that, really.
There's a moment where her expression almost matches the nonchalance of her words, and then it shifts, torn between excitement and dismay.
Ok, that's not true. I'm thrilled. This is a wonderful oppourtunity. I'm also terrified. This is the biggest challenge of my career and if I didn't think they were going to be watching me like some bird of prey, I'd be kidding myself. One mistake and... I don't even know what. I know that the command will get yanked away form me, of course. But I don't know what else will happen. I'm under a microscope now. As well I should be. I'd have me under one, too.
She shakes her head slowly, closing her eyes and tapping behind her right ear.Humming softly under her breath for a moment, the Betazoid takes her time recollecting herself and then takes a deep breath before continuing. A moment of thought, and she starts smiling, a bright expression that lightens her dark eyes and brings a hint of colour to the pallor of her face.
Oddly, perhaps, I'm very happy. It's been a good couple of days. I know it hasn't been as long as usual since my last log, but it has been very eventful. This morning, when I got to...my ready room... there was a package and a card on my desk. From Tilly.
She pulls out a beautiful silver comb and holds it up to the light. Her smile softens.
She was far too sweet, and the card said the loveliest things. The times I've met her, I've rather enjoyed speaking with her, and this just... was completely unexpected. It also reminds me that the holidays are coming up and I have my own list of presents to procure and deliver!
It's unusual for me, this is the first time in years I've sent presents to anyone but my parents. I'm sure I'll find something for my parents, too, of course. But this is going to be a vastly different year--has been a vastly different year--for me than many a previous.
She leans back and puts the comb down, the gentle smile remaining on her lips. She stares off to one side.
Had a long talk with Trellain. I think it went well. She seems very happy, which makes me happy for her. She's a very interesting person--mercurial is the term I think leaps to mind. Not really a surprise, I guess.
The distant gaze remains unfocused and staring off into nothingness.
Long talks seem to be the thing to do right now. Had one with Trellain. Had a relatively short one with Tilly--even got a chance to talk with Counselor Sedai. Not about myself, I mean. Although I'm sure her brain kept working, analyzing what I was saying and how I was saying it. It was a nice encounter, and I'm very happy that it happened.
Although, it feels like there's a theme here...
Amusement colours her tone and she finally refocuses on the camera, a smile flickering about her lips. She leans back in the chair and her hands seem twitchy, perhaps at a loss for what to do with themselves since they're empty now.
It's a good time, I think. Not everything's perfect, of course, but that won't stop me from enjoying what I have. It also won't stop me from working hard at my job and fulfilling my duties.
A slight and distinct pause.
Although, I should really stop thinking I can bring my PADD out in public and actually accomplish work. It works sometimes, but more often than not...
The sound of her laughter is the last thing the log records as she leans forward to shut it off.
Personal log -
Well, it did happen after all. I am now the Acting Captain of the U.S.S. Dryzaak. I have to pick a first officer and get us back out on patrol as soon as possible. Not much else to say about that, really.
There's a moment where her expression almost matches the nonchalance of her words, and then it shifts, torn between excitement and dismay.
Ok, that's not true. I'm thrilled. This is a wonderful oppourtunity. I'm also terrified. This is the biggest challenge of my career and if I didn't think they were going to be watching me like some bird of prey, I'd be kidding myself. One mistake and... I don't even know what. I know that the command will get yanked away form me, of course. But I don't know what else will happen. I'm under a microscope now. As well I should be. I'd have me under one, too.
She shakes her head slowly, closing her eyes and tapping behind her right ear.Humming softly under her breath for a moment, the Betazoid takes her time recollecting herself and then takes a deep breath before continuing. A moment of thought, and she starts smiling, a bright expression that lightens her dark eyes and brings a hint of colour to the pallor of her face.
Oddly, perhaps, I'm very happy. It's been a good couple of days. I know it hasn't been as long as usual since my last log, but it has been very eventful. This morning, when I got to...my ready room... there was a package and a card on my desk. From Tilly.
She pulls out a beautiful silver comb and holds it up to the light. Her smile softens.
She was far too sweet, and the card said the loveliest things. The times I've met her, I've rather enjoyed speaking with her, and this just... was completely unexpected. It also reminds me that the holidays are coming up and I have my own list of presents to procure and deliver!
It's unusual for me, this is the first time in years I've sent presents to anyone but my parents. I'm sure I'll find something for my parents, too, of course. But this is going to be a vastly different year--has been a vastly different year--for me than many a previous.
She leans back and puts the comb down, the gentle smile remaining on her lips. She stares off to one side.
Had a long talk with Trellain. I think it went well. She seems very happy, which makes me happy for her. She's a very interesting person--mercurial is the term I think leaps to mind. Not really a surprise, I guess.
The distant gaze remains unfocused and staring off into nothingness.
Long talks seem to be the thing to do right now. Had one with Trellain. Had a relatively short one with Tilly--even got a chance to talk with Counselor Sedai. Not about myself, I mean. Although I'm sure her brain kept working, analyzing what I was saying and how I was saying it. It was a nice encounter, and I'm very happy that it happened.
Although, it feels like there's a theme here...
Amusement colours her tone and she finally refocuses on the camera, a smile flickering about her lips. She leans back in the chair and her hands seem twitchy, perhaps at a loss for what to do with themselves since they're empty now.
It's a good time, I think. Not everything's perfect, of course, but that won't stop me from enjoying what I have. It also won't stop me from working hard at my job and fulfilling my duties.
A slight and distinct pause.
Although, I should really stop thinking I can bring my PADD out in public and actually accomplish work. It works sometimes, but more often than not...
The sound of her laughter is the last thing the log records as she leans forward to shut it off.
6 Likes
The log is audio only this time, and there's a faint crackling sound as it begins--like that of crumpling paper. The sound of her faintly cursing is recorded before her voice steadies and begins to speak in its normal soft, soothing tones.
I look back over the months that I've commanded the Dryzaak and I think that perhaps our luck has been... incredible. We've been able to handle what's come our way and had a rather smooth time of it. My crew has been hard-working and loyal, everything I could want them to be, actually. Even with the slight... games... the ensigns have played from time to time.
I think it's safe enough to allow the replicators to start producing cinnamon again...
There's a soft swishing sound, like fabric on fabric.
I think it's time to start writing letters again. Patrols are at opposite ends and things have been time consuming. I refuse to let duty tear something great apart.
We'll see what happens next. I've requested that I don't get put back as an XO, but instead, let me command a ship appropriate to my rank. I'm just waiting for orders now. Until then, I'll do as I always do.
The gentle clink of glass on a solid tabletop is picked up and then, silence
I look back over the months that I've commanded the Dryzaak and I think that perhaps our luck has been... incredible. We've been able to handle what's come our way and had a rather smooth time of it. My crew has been hard-working and loyal, everything I could want them to be, actually. Even with the slight... games... the ensigns have played from time to time.
I think it's safe enough to allow the replicators to start producing cinnamon again...
There's a soft swishing sound, like fabric on fabric.
I think it's time to start writing letters again. Patrols are at opposite ends and things have been time consuming. I refuse to let duty tear something great apart.
We'll see what happens next. I've requested that I don't get put back as an XO, but instead, let me command a ship appropriate to my rank. I'm just waiting for orders now. Until then, I'll do as I always do.
The gentle clink of glass on a solid tabletop is picked up and then, silence
7 Likes
The visual log opens up the an image of the new Commander with her hair down, sitting at her desk. Her jacket is open, displaying the red undershirt in the thin line down the middle of her chest. She has a finger hooked into the high-necked collar and she keeps tugging at the offending garment.
Her eyes are staring down at a PADD on the desk, the contents of which are unknowable by the camera's viewpoint. Then the dark eyes raise and she meets the camera's view steadily. The sober expression lasts for a whole two seconds before she bursts into a bright, cheerful smile. The broad grin remains on her face as she speaks.
It's happened. I have a command. The most beautiful Intrepid in Starfleet and she's mine, all mine!
Her arms go around her torso, hugging herself. She rocks a little in her chair and she stays grinning.
Ok, I have no idea if there's a prettier Intrepid in the fleet, but as far as I'm concerned, there isn't. 15 decks of sweet, sleek science vessel to go on missions of explorations as well as the patrol.
This is everything I've ever wanted. A science vessel to command--only I thought this would be years in the future. I am so fortunate, I cannot believe it. I am setting things up as we speak, rotating crew in and out, resupplying, getting everything in tip top shape.
Beylara releases herself with an explosive burst of celebratory cheer. Her hands fly into the air with an almost victorious reach for the ceiling. The flurry of motion ceases partway through and becomes a long stretch, a satisfying one, by the smile on her face. She's more relaxed now, easing back into her chair.
I gave a ship's tour, my first. It's not the same as an inspection--at the same time both more pressure and less. Keth was kind enough to be my guest, considering she'd been on an Intrepid before, it's not like this was much of a surprise for her. It did help, having someone who I knew coming aboard first, rather than a super formal Admiral or some such.
Well. I look forward to exploring every inch of my ship and getting to know with eyes and hands and feet what I've studied in schematics. And I'll be looking forward to getting out and doing our missions, patrols, whatever is thrown at us. I'm sure we can handle it. This crew is going to be amazing. I can't wait to run us through our paces. We'll start workups in a few days.
I should really get started on a Captain's log...
She grins broadly again just saying that last line and reaches forward to shut off the recording.
Her eyes are staring down at a PADD on the desk, the contents of which are unknowable by the camera's viewpoint. Then the dark eyes raise and she meets the camera's view steadily. The sober expression lasts for a whole two seconds before she bursts into a bright, cheerful smile. The broad grin remains on her face as she speaks.
It's happened. I have a command. The most beautiful Intrepid in Starfleet and she's mine, all mine!
Her arms go around her torso, hugging herself. She rocks a little in her chair and she stays grinning.
Ok, I have no idea if there's a prettier Intrepid in the fleet, but as far as I'm concerned, there isn't. 15 decks of sweet, sleek science vessel to go on missions of explorations as well as the patrol.
This is everything I've ever wanted. A science vessel to command--only I thought this would be years in the future. I am so fortunate, I cannot believe it. I am setting things up as we speak, rotating crew in and out, resupplying, getting everything in tip top shape.
Beylara releases herself with an explosive burst of celebratory cheer. Her hands fly into the air with an almost victorious reach for the ceiling. The flurry of motion ceases partway through and becomes a long stretch, a satisfying one, by the smile on her face. She's more relaxed now, easing back into her chair.
I gave a ship's tour, my first. It's not the same as an inspection--at the same time both more pressure and less. Keth was kind enough to be my guest, considering she'd been on an Intrepid before, it's not like this was much of a surprise for her. It did help, having someone who I knew coming aboard first, rather than a super formal Admiral or some such.
Well. I look forward to exploring every inch of my ship and getting to know with eyes and hands and feet what I've studied in schematics. And I'll be looking forward to getting out and doing our missions, patrols, whatever is thrown at us. I'm sure we can handle it. This crew is going to be amazing. I can't wait to run us through our paces. We'll start workups in a few days.
I should really get started on a Captain's log...
She grins broadly again just saying that last line and reaches forward to shut off the recording.
9 Likes
The log opens to another view of Beylara at her desk. Her posture is perfect, utterly straight-spine and shoulders back. Almost as though she were sitting at attention.
It is not a pleasant thing, self doubt. It eats at one's soul; little nibbles of tiny, sharp teeth. A gnawing sensation that only grows as it devours. And all it takes is one little seed. One mistake.
All right, perhaps not a little mistake. That's where the problem lies. A big mistake. At best, the information I gathered is sufficient, at worst--I don't even know. So, I will work extra hard elsewhere in order to make up for my failures.
Her fingertips tap restlessly on the desk's surface. Her gaze shifts to off-screen, and she falls silent for a long moment.
It's murky waters that I'm diving into. I've been asked not to, but I've been told I must. Let's just hope that this... how do they say? This rabbit hole only goes so deep.
And I--
I am weak.
Her hand slams on the desk, flat palmed, fingers spread wide. Her eyes narrow, glistening in the light. Without another word, she shuts off the recording.
It is not a pleasant thing, self doubt. It eats at one's soul; little nibbles of tiny, sharp teeth. A gnawing sensation that only grows as it devours. And all it takes is one little seed. One mistake.
All right, perhaps not a little mistake. That's where the problem lies. A big mistake. At best, the information I gathered is sufficient, at worst--I don't even know. So, I will work extra hard elsewhere in order to make up for my failures.
Her fingertips tap restlessly on the desk's surface. Her gaze shifts to off-screen, and she falls silent for a long moment.
It's murky waters that I'm diving into. I've been asked not to, but I've been told I must. Let's just hope that this... how do they say? This rabbit hole only goes so deep.
And I--
I am weak.
Her hand slams on the desk, flat palmed, fingers spread wide. Her eyes narrow, glistening in the light. Without another word, she shuts off the recording.
11 Likes
There's a change to the usually empty desk upon which she rests her elbows.
There's a bottle of tequila on it, mostly empty. A shot glass sits next to it, also empty. Beylara rests her chin in her hands and stares blankly at the camera doing the recording. She's not in uniform,
her hair a loose tumble about her shoulders. Her lips are pursed tightly before she begins to speak.
I often wonder if what I do in my life is the right thing. If I've walked the right path, made the right choices. And then there's the split in the path--one branch leads to thorns, the other to a path of nails. Sometimes there's even a third, equally painful. It's like the rock climbing. You try to pick the path up the surface that you can manage, that your body can handle. An sometimes you find that it's too much. Your arms ache, shaking. Your legs quiver and muscles burn.
What do you do then? You're committed. You might even like your path, because it challenges you, makes you happy. But there's still pain there. Maybe pain is inevitable and you're bound to have it however, so you might as well try and face it off the best way you can. Pick the path where the pain is predictable and familiar?
Beylara sighs and pours herself a shot, downs it and quirks a smile at the camera.
Enough of that. I promised I wouldn't drag myself down anymore. I need to practice my meditation as well as physical activity. I want to go horseback riding in the morning. I started going to a Counselor--we'll see how that goes for me. I can hope it helps in the long run. What matters is living my life and making up for my mistakes, and being grateful for what I have, I think.
And to top it off, there's a few missions to plan, a few arguments to have because of them, and a prisoner to interrogate.
Sounds like a full schedule to me.
There's a bottle of tequila on it, mostly empty. A shot glass sits next to it, also empty. Beylara rests her chin in her hands and stares blankly at the camera doing the recording. She's not in uniform,
her hair a loose tumble about her shoulders. Her lips are pursed tightly before she begins to speak.
I often wonder if what I do in my life is the right thing. If I've walked the right path, made the right choices. And then there's the split in the path--one branch leads to thorns, the other to a path of nails. Sometimes there's even a third, equally painful. It's like the rock climbing. You try to pick the path up the surface that you can manage, that your body can handle. An sometimes you find that it's too much. Your arms ache, shaking. Your legs quiver and muscles burn.
What do you do then? You're committed. You might even like your path, because it challenges you, makes you happy. But there's still pain there. Maybe pain is inevitable and you're bound to have it however, so you might as well try and face it off the best way you can. Pick the path where the pain is predictable and familiar?
Beylara sighs and pours herself a shot, downs it and quirks a smile at the camera.
Enough of that. I promised I wouldn't drag myself down anymore. I need to practice my meditation as well as physical activity. I want to go horseback riding in the morning. I started going to a Counselor--we'll see how that goes for me. I can hope it helps in the long run. What matters is living my life and making up for my mistakes, and being grateful for what I have, I think.
And to top it off, there's a few missions to plan, a few arguments to have because of them, and a prisoner to interrogate.
Sounds like a full schedule to me.
10 Likes
Computer, begin recording.
Well, I'm back-ish. Finished the research I was working on out in space and now I'm working on the research paper to go with it. It would be going faster if it weren't for the patrol missions we're running in between. It's been a long time since I've written a paper that mattered this much, and I'm definitely intimidated by the peer review. It's not quite the same as having a teacher grade it.
There's a pause, followed by a slight chuckle. The Commander slumps in front of her desk, both elbows down, propping up her face in her hands. A PADD is on the desk, the faint illumination lighting her face gently from below, as her room is somewhat dim.
I offered to try and get a transfer to a teacher position here at the auxillary branch of the Academy--or whatever it's called. You know. How Buchanan swapped over. I could stay more and not wander off as much. Focus on grading papers instead of writing them. He said no. So, now we're distant, I guess you could call it. See each other when we can and not worry about the rest of the time.
Her lips purse tightly together and she turns her head so that she's staring off somewhere off-screen.
I haven't seen hardly anyone else in forever. Not even Swifty. I really have to change that. I can't be a hermit all the time and I can make no progress on this damn paper in public as much as I can in private. Besides, I miss people.
Beylara sighs.
Computer, end recording.
Well, I'm back-ish. Finished the research I was working on out in space and now I'm working on the research paper to go with it. It would be going faster if it weren't for the patrol missions we're running in between. It's been a long time since I've written a paper that mattered this much, and I'm definitely intimidated by the peer review. It's not quite the same as having a teacher grade it.
There's a pause, followed by a slight chuckle. The Commander slumps in front of her desk, both elbows down, propping up her face in her hands. A PADD is on the desk, the faint illumination lighting her face gently from below, as her room is somewhat dim.
I offered to try and get a transfer to a teacher position here at the auxillary branch of the Academy--or whatever it's called. You know. How Buchanan swapped over. I could stay more and not wander off as much. Focus on grading papers instead of writing them. He said no. So, now we're distant, I guess you could call it. See each other when we can and not worry about the rest of the time.
Her lips purse tightly together and she turns her head so that she's staring off somewhere off-screen.
I haven't seen hardly anyone else in forever. Not even Swifty. I really have to change that. I can't be a hermit all the time and I can make no progress on this damn paper in public as much as I can in private. Besides, I miss people.
Beylara sighs.
Computer, end recording.
6 Likes
This time the camera opens upon a desk that is lacking a fixture of these logs: Beylara herself. The desk is void of person, only showing it's smooth surface, cluttered with a PADD, a bottle, half-empty holding amber liquid, and a glass with a pinkish-orange drink in it. From somewhere outside this still scene, Beylara's voice comes, somewhat muffled.
"Well, I've learned a few things about myself in the last week or so. That I can be just as mean and petty as I've never wanted to be. That I have, surrounding me, good friends that are to be treasured. That it's been too long since I've written a research paper!" The last is said with laughter as she comes into view. Her hair is a loose tumble about her shoulders, and she's wearing something that looks far more comfortable than stylish.
"Patrols are, thus far, uneventful. Nothing stands out in them. But it is good to be getting back into a regular routine affiliated with the starbase again. I'm gladder than ever I'm in Sagittarius squadron now, that takes care of a lot of awkwardness."
Sitting down, she takes a swig of the mixed drink in front of her. A sigh, and then Beylara continues. "Tilly said a lot of things that made a lot of sense last night. And I'm grateful that Trellain and Alistair are making a point of reaching out. That could have been awkward. I'm luckier than I deserve."
One more pause and she stares at the camera for a long moment. "Hopefully work will pick up soon. I plan to have Lieutenant Xan read over the paper before submitting it. Pira's honest enough to tell me what needs to be edited where. Other than that, I guess I can see if there's trouble to get into." A small smile flickers around her lips, but fades swiftly. "Hey, after all, Subcommander Maiell's back from vacation."
Shrugging, she reaches out and switches off the feed.
"Well, I've learned a few things about myself in the last week or so. That I can be just as mean and petty as I've never wanted to be. That I have, surrounding me, good friends that are to be treasured. That it's been too long since I've written a research paper!" The last is said with laughter as she comes into view. Her hair is a loose tumble about her shoulders, and she's wearing something that looks far more comfortable than stylish.
"Patrols are, thus far, uneventful. Nothing stands out in them. But it is good to be getting back into a regular routine affiliated with the starbase again. I'm gladder than ever I'm in Sagittarius squadron now, that takes care of a lot of awkwardness."
Sitting down, she takes a swig of the mixed drink in front of her. A sigh, and then Beylara continues. "Tilly said a lot of things that made a lot of sense last night. And I'm grateful that Trellain and Alistair are making a point of reaching out. That could have been awkward. I'm luckier than I deserve."
One more pause and she stares at the camera for a long moment. "Hopefully work will pick up soon. I plan to have Lieutenant Xan read over the paper before submitting it. Pira's honest enough to tell me what needs to be edited where. Other than that, I guess I can see if there's trouble to get into." A small smile flickers around her lips, but fades swiftly. "Hey, after all, Subcommander Maiell's back from vacation."
Shrugging, she reaches out and switches off the feed.
8 Likes
The feed comes on and she's sitting primly at her desk, in uniform. Her hand is restless, tapping her fingertips on the desk. She has a small puzzle-box in front of her and she eventually starts fiddling with it while she talks, almost like a habit. Playing with it more than seriously trying to solve it.
"I think I'm looking forward to the ship's next mission." She says, reaching off-screen and the sound of liquid pouring. She leans back, after a sip of coffee, resuming work on the puzzle-box. "Patrols are quiet, and the station is, well, interesting to say the least. But I miss the work. Patrols are well and good, but it isn't really stretching my wings. I'm excited to see what Captain Konieczko's plan is for contacting the species in the Kelterre sector. I think it would be interesting to have contact with the Echomet, as I had no interaction with them previously in the ... other instances."
Her attention for a moment focuses on the box. "Ah, ha!" She exclaims and the puzzle-box clicks, the final piece coming into play and it falls open in her hand. Her face is suddenly loses all excitement and she draws out a necklace. A thin chain, with a fairly sizable piece on it. It's a thin slice of a geode, dyed to resemble a galaxy within it's crystalline structure. It even shifts as it catches the light. Her expression is entirely blank, her lips moving slightly as she reads something off the back of it. Hastily, she puts it back in the box and closes it up, pushing it to the side and picking up her coffee.
"Out of all the potential peoples listed as options for us to speak with, Legia IX and the Echomet are the ones I have the most interest in," she continues in a dispirited tone. "I guess we'll see how it all turns out. Also, as a note, I believe the crew of the trading ship that was rammed is doing well enough now, or at least they were once they were able to begin their... insurance claims."
She turns the coffee in her hands, evidently still a bit restless in her motions even if her body is sitting up straight and still. "My paper has been submitted to peer review. We shall see if it's published."
She suddenly slouches. "Computer, end log."
"I think I'm looking forward to the ship's next mission." She says, reaching off-screen and the sound of liquid pouring. She leans back, after a sip of coffee, resuming work on the puzzle-box. "Patrols are quiet, and the station is, well, interesting to say the least. But I miss the work. Patrols are well and good, but it isn't really stretching my wings. I'm excited to see what Captain Konieczko's plan is for contacting the species in the Kelterre sector. I think it would be interesting to have contact with the Echomet, as I had no interaction with them previously in the ... other instances."
Her attention for a moment focuses on the box. "Ah, ha!" She exclaims and the puzzle-box clicks, the final piece coming into play and it falls open in her hand. Her face is suddenly loses all excitement and she draws out a necklace. A thin chain, with a fairly sizable piece on it. It's a thin slice of a geode, dyed to resemble a galaxy within it's crystalline structure. It even shifts as it catches the light. Her expression is entirely blank, her lips moving slightly as she reads something off the back of it. Hastily, she puts it back in the box and closes it up, pushing it to the side and picking up her coffee.
"Out of all the potential peoples listed as options for us to speak with, Legia IX and the Echomet are the ones I have the most interest in," she continues in a dispirited tone. "I guess we'll see how it all turns out. Also, as a note, I believe the crew of the trading ship that was rammed is doing well enough now, or at least they were once they were able to begin their... insurance claims."
She turns the coffee in her hands, evidently still a bit restless in her motions even if her body is sitting up straight and still. "My paper has been submitted to peer review. We shall see if it's published."
She suddenly slouches. "Computer, end log."
4 Likes
"Well, hasn't it been an interesting week or so?" Beylara's log starts with her flopping into her chair and picking up a steaming mug of something. It's opaque, so inside the liquid could be tea or coffee, but whatever it is, she inhales the aroma with relish and seems perfectly relaxed. There are circles under her eyes, but they're faint. "I really have to get some real sleep." Beylara laughs, then sobers.
"Mission-wise, we completed that reconnaissance mission--only it wasn't. There was a distress call that we couldn't ignore, especially not after we learned that not only were people being held against their will, but children were going to be harmed as a result of the distress call in the first place. Not just harmed, killed. That monster. He got away from us. But he's going to have to work hard to rebuild his collection of Starfleet tech. He can't have taken everything with him."
She pauses. "The fungal bloom went off well. I've even had several people aboard the Ockham interested in seeing it happen, or watch the recording. I'm hoping that it's beauty is enough to inspire some people into seeing art or beauty in nature where they wouldn't have before. I mean really, who would have expected a fungus to be lovely?"
Beylara smiles, softly and sips her beverage. Then her smile broadens. "Got to go to a club last night with Tilly. It was fantastic. Really got to shake off some stress for a change. Never knew it could be so much fun. Gods know it wasn't like that for me when I was younger, I was never one of the club-goers. Too much studying to do. Between that and lunch, we've really gotten a good spate of gossip out, and I've learned a lot about my new friend." Her smile falters. "Even if some of my other sources disagree. I'll have to sort that out."
She sits up as her communit pings her. "Well, that settles that. Back to work." Beylara reaches over and punches the button, shutting off the feed.
"Mission-wise, we completed that reconnaissance mission--only it wasn't. There was a distress call that we couldn't ignore, especially not after we learned that not only were people being held against their will, but children were going to be harmed as a result of the distress call in the first place. Not just harmed, killed. That monster. He got away from us. But he's going to have to work hard to rebuild his collection of Starfleet tech. He can't have taken everything with him."
She pauses. "The fungal bloom went off well. I've even had several people aboard the Ockham interested in seeing it happen, or watch the recording. I'm hoping that it's beauty is enough to inspire some people into seeing art or beauty in nature where they wouldn't have before. I mean really, who would have expected a fungus to be lovely?"
Beylara smiles, softly and sips her beverage. Then her smile broadens. "Got to go to a club last night with Tilly. It was fantastic. Really got to shake off some stress for a change. Never knew it could be so much fun. Gods know it wasn't like that for me when I was younger, I was never one of the club-goers. Too much studying to do. Between that and lunch, we've really gotten a good spate of gossip out, and I've learned a lot about my new friend." Her smile falters. "Even if some of my other sources disagree. I'll have to sort that out."
She sits up as her communit pings her. "Well, that settles that. Back to work." Beylara reaches over and punches the button, shutting off the feed.
6 Likes
Weariness envelopes the Betazoid, in every line of her frame as she gracelessly flops into the chair again. This time there's no drink before her, but there is a knife on the desk. She picks it up and idly toys with it while she speaks.
"Well, I've had better days, weeks, and worse ones." She begins, placing the knife point down on the table and twisting it around. "I can't imagine that the diplomatic tour could have gone much better--all things considered. My personal suspicion is that the Echomet are suffering from a massive and catastrophic rebellion or civil war of some kind. It's tragic, and a goodly portion of it can be placed at Starfleet's doorstep. They are self-centered at the moment, and broken. I dread to think what sort of society is going to evolve from their bitter and hardened attitude."
Beylara leans back and lifts the knife, smiling as the light catches the edge. She plays around, making the light dance on the metal blade. "However, my portion of it, the Waydi conversation, was very pleasant. They were cooperative and cheerful, at least they seemed cheerful. They invited us to visit their new colony and I plan on taking them up on it. Soon. I have a yearning to immerse myself in a telepathic culture, to recharge, as it were." There's a moment of silence and she lowers the knife. "I find I miss the contact, possibly to an unhealthy degree, and this should be sufficient to protect me from making a stupid decision because of that lonely ache that happens sometimes." She laughs. "Wow, that sounds a lot like something else."
Shrugging, Beylara lays the knife down. "It turns out I have a really nasty streak in me. I've said things to Emery that I regret. I've even made nasty comments to Rear Admiral Perim, although she either doesn't get the references anymore or she chose to ignore them. Admittedly, that was while drunk. And the fight I picked the other night. Wasn't that just delightful? What was I thinking?"
The Commander begins poking the tip of one finger with the point of the knife. "I don't know what I'm going to do now. Go on patrol I guess. I have days before I can resolve any of this. Try not to get drunk in front of people anymore. Do all my drinking in my quarters. Those Counselor types have sharp eyes." Chuckling, she reaches forward to shut off the feed.
"Well, I've had better days, weeks, and worse ones." She begins, placing the knife point down on the table and twisting it around. "I can't imagine that the diplomatic tour could have gone much better--all things considered. My personal suspicion is that the Echomet are suffering from a massive and catastrophic rebellion or civil war of some kind. It's tragic, and a goodly portion of it can be placed at Starfleet's doorstep. They are self-centered at the moment, and broken. I dread to think what sort of society is going to evolve from their bitter and hardened attitude."
Beylara leans back and lifts the knife, smiling as the light catches the edge. She plays around, making the light dance on the metal blade. "However, my portion of it, the Waydi conversation, was very pleasant. They were cooperative and cheerful, at least they seemed cheerful. They invited us to visit their new colony and I plan on taking them up on it. Soon. I have a yearning to immerse myself in a telepathic culture, to recharge, as it were." There's a moment of silence and she lowers the knife. "I find I miss the contact, possibly to an unhealthy degree, and this should be sufficient to protect me from making a stupid decision because of that lonely ache that happens sometimes." She laughs. "Wow, that sounds a lot like something else."
Shrugging, Beylara lays the knife down. "It turns out I have a really nasty streak in me. I've said things to Emery that I regret. I've even made nasty comments to Rear Admiral Perim, although she either doesn't get the references anymore or she chose to ignore them. Admittedly, that was while drunk. And the fight I picked the other night. Wasn't that just delightful? What was I thinking?"
The Commander begins poking the tip of one finger with the point of the knife. "I don't know what I'm going to do now. Go on patrol I guess. I have days before I can resolve any of this. Try not to get drunk in front of people anymore. Do all my drinking in my quarters. Those Counselor types have sharp eyes." Chuckling, she reaches forward to shut off the feed.
9 Likes
The Betazoid is seated at her desk, as is her custom when recording a log as the video feed begins. Her expression is sober, and there's a large log of wood on the desk before her. She seems to be examining it critically.
"Personal Log. I find myself wondering what lies inside the depths of things lately. Like this wood. When I carve it, will it give me a good shape, or will it show rotten or dried material under the bark? The weight and the sound," she knocks on the outside of the wood, "tell me that I should be good with this piece. But it all seems so... idyllic, doesn't it?" Lifting it, she turns it idly. "As time passes, as the outer layers that the world sees are stripped away to reveal the heart of the wood beneath, will we find that we like what we see? Or will we end up disenchanted with the carving that we're trying to make. Each stroke of the knife, each whittled piece of wood is an unchangeable decision, something that cannot be taken back. If it's a mistake, then the wood is left with the consequences. Alone."
She sets the wood down and reaches off camera to pick up a clear mug filled with golden liquid--likely her favorite jestral tea. Beylara chuckles to herself. "Flights of fancy or whimsy are not particularly helpful, are they? Let's stick to the facts. I made a trip to visit the colony on Waydis II. It was fantastic. Their form of telepathy is fascinating, no emotional residue. I learned a lot while I was there, and it was a pleasant experience. I hope to return soon. I find that I miss telepathic society and it's made me a little clingy to certain people lately and rather than get on their nerves, I'll take it out on the Waydi and make it a diplomatic excuse." The Commander laughs.
"I'm going to organize a bit of an informal 'tour' of my own, I think. New Circini needs some goodwill fostered there, and the Annatar, too. And, of course, another visit to Waydis II. So a shopping trip to the markets on Circini and just a pleasant visit to Annatar, if they permit it. Something to say, 'no hard feelings,' maybe." She pauses. "I'll probably have Ambassador Altais coming along." A longer pause. "It makes sense for him to have the opportunity to branch out to other people, and perhaps Starfleet can assist in his duties." She seems oddly contemplative. "Subcommander t'Aendon has also requested to join, as an observer. I should probably clear them with command. We'll see what happens."
Straightening, she tugs the bottom of her uniform jacket. "The Butcher is still on the loose, so I'll be on the lookout while I patrol the Kelterre sector. I don't know if he's left the sector or not. But I'll be definitely keeping an eye out for that monster. That's the closest I've come to hate in a long time."
Reaching off screen once again, she brings a knife into camera view. Then she looks at the log. Her shoulders droop and she appears saddened. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. Then cuts a chunk of bark off the wood and lets it drop to the table's surface. "End personal log."
"Personal Log. I find myself wondering what lies inside the depths of things lately. Like this wood. When I carve it, will it give me a good shape, or will it show rotten or dried material under the bark? The weight and the sound," she knocks on the outside of the wood, "tell me that I should be good with this piece. But it all seems so... idyllic, doesn't it?" Lifting it, she turns it idly. "As time passes, as the outer layers that the world sees are stripped away to reveal the heart of the wood beneath, will we find that we like what we see? Or will we end up disenchanted with the carving that we're trying to make. Each stroke of the knife, each whittled piece of wood is an unchangeable decision, something that cannot be taken back. If it's a mistake, then the wood is left with the consequences. Alone."
She sets the wood down and reaches off camera to pick up a clear mug filled with golden liquid--likely her favorite jestral tea. Beylara chuckles to herself. "Flights of fancy or whimsy are not particularly helpful, are they? Let's stick to the facts. I made a trip to visit the colony on Waydis II. It was fantastic. Their form of telepathy is fascinating, no emotional residue. I learned a lot while I was there, and it was a pleasant experience. I hope to return soon. I find that I miss telepathic society and it's made me a little clingy to certain people lately and rather than get on their nerves, I'll take it out on the Waydi and make it a diplomatic excuse." The Commander laughs.
"I'm going to organize a bit of an informal 'tour' of my own, I think. New Circini needs some goodwill fostered there, and the Annatar, too. And, of course, another visit to Waydis II. So a shopping trip to the markets on Circini and just a pleasant visit to Annatar, if they permit it. Something to say, 'no hard feelings,' maybe." She pauses. "I'll probably have Ambassador Altais coming along." A longer pause. "It makes sense for him to have the opportunity to branch out to other people, and perhaps Starfleet can assist in his duties." She seems oddly contemplative. "Subcommander t'Aendon has also requested to join, as an observer. I should probably clear them with command. We'll see what happens."
Straightening, she tugs the bottom of her uniform jacket. "The Butcher is still on the loose, so I'll be on the lookout while I patrol the Kelterre sector. I don't know if he's left the sector or not. But I'll be definitely keeping an eye out for that monster. That's the closest I've come to hate in a long time."
Reaching off screen once again, she brings a knife into camera view. Then she looks at the log. Her shoulders droop and she appears saddened. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. Then cuts a chunk of bark off the wood and lets it drop to the table's surface. "End personal log."
6 Likes
The Commander's face appears in front of the screen once more, this time without knife or log. She holds a tall, slender flute of a faintly golden liquid and there's a small, thin bottle next to her. The bottle has condensation on the outside, a somewhat fogged appearance. She appears to be examining the liquid, turning the glass, tilting it.
"Personal Log. I've learned that sometimes, no matter what you think the correct course of action is, the reality will surprise you. And no matter how much you might wish something is one thing, wishing does not make it so."
She lets out a sigh, but a soft smile remains on her lips. "It seems I have gained a brother. A funny thing, because it is my mother who is the one with the penchant for adoption, but our affection lies better in this direction. And I'm happy to have it so. It doesn't fix anything else in my life, and it isn't going to make things easier, but at least it will be a support that I have, one that perhaps, will keep me from making similar... misjudgments."
Beylara sips the ice-wine, her smile growing slightly as she swallows. "Now all that's left, it seems, is to patrol Terix, monitor my fungus, and raise the adorable little monster Mother gave me. Oh, and survive her visit." She chuckles. "Though so far so good. She hasn't started any fights or diplomatic incidents, just the one argument and she wasn't even there for that."
"I know Emery is worried about Terix, but now--now all I can do is offer help as a support ship. Like any other CO in the fleet. Hopefully, that will be enough." A pause. "And then there's Maiell. The admiral suspects his intentions and frankly, so do I. But regardless of whether or not I'm some 'random Commander,'" she says the last mockingly, "he's asked for my help and he's saved my life, so I'm going to give it. I guess the next step is to put together a team?"
"Oh, the little goodwill tour went well. We met with a lot of locals, and I got a ton of shopping done. Happily, enough that I even have last minute gifts to be given at need. Although how some will be received, that is yet to be determined. If they'll even be accepted." She shrugs. "I guess that doesn't leave much else to talk about. Just a holding pattern for work for the time being."
Beylara takes another sip and smiles at the camera. "And I have a few movies left over to watch." Reaching out, she shuts off the feed.
"Personal Log. I've learned that sometimes, no matter what you think the correct course of action is, the reality will surprise you. And no matter how much you might wish something is one thing, wishing does not make it so."
She lets out a sigh, but a soft smile remains on her lips. "It seems I have gained a brother. A funny thing, because it is my mother who is the one with the penchant for adoption, but our affection lies better in this direction. And I'm happy to have it so. It doesn't fix anything else in my life, and it isn't going to make things easier, but at least it will be a support that I have, one that perhaps, will keep me from making similar... misjudgments."
Beylara sips the ice-wine, her smile growing slightly as she swallows. "Now all that's left, it seems, is to patrol Terix, monitor my fungus, and raise the adorable little monster Mother gave me. Oh, and survive her visit." She chuckles. "Though so far so good. She hasn't started any fights or diplomatic incidents, just the one argument and she wasn't even there for that."
"I know Emery is worried about Terix, but now--now all I can do is offer help as a support ship. Like any other CO in the fleet. Hopefully, that will be enough." A pause. "And then there's Maiell. The admiral suspects his intentions and frankly, so do I. But regardless of whether or not I'm some 'random Commander,'" she says the last mockingly, "he's asked for my help and he's saved my life, so I'm going to give it. I guess the next step is to put together a team?"
"Oh, the little goodwill tour went well. We met with a lot of locals, and I got a ton of shopping done. Happily, enough that I even have last minute gifts to be given at need. Although how some will be received, that is yet to be determined. If they'll even be accepted." She shrugs. "I guess that doesn't leave much else to talk about. Just a holding pattern for work for the time being."
Beylara takes another sip and smiles at the camera. "And I have a few movies left over to watch." Reaching out, she shuts off the feed.
5 Likes
When the video begins, Beylara is smiling. She's not in uniform, instead she is there with her hair down and a lavendar top, it appears soft and comfortable, with a V-neck. She's wearing a necklace--a slice of a amethyst geode, cut to glitter like a small galaxy was caught within.
"Well, let's start with the most recent. Terix is finally past. I think. It seems to me that we have managed to offend them enough that they won't be seeking the diplomatic table or even neutral relations anytime soon. The one person who was on our side, we seemed to insult." She sighs. "Of course, they were uncompromising and put us in a very bad position, themselves. So it wasn't a very good situation, either way."
"Let's see. Maiell's little problem is becoming much worse. A potential terrorist attack--I suspect on New Bajor--and still have no idea who is behind it. The only clue I have is that I believe it's one of my own people. I have a theory." Another deep breath. "We'll see--I could be wrong. I'm afraid I'm right. But I hope that we find out before anything happens."
"On a more positive note, things are looking up on my ship. I have a new XO--Zee. She's a Commander, like me, but doesn't seem to mind taking orders from me. She's telepathic, like me, which means we'll be a terror to the crew," she chuckles. "An Aenar, but if she's got any sort of complications, we'll figure out ways around them. The computer will be an enormous help. Also a new operations officer, Ensign Niraj. A human, so good balance for my crew. I've done an away mission with her before, I know she's competent. I look forward to seeing her at work."
Leaning back in her chair, she smiles more and runs her fingers through her hair. "On a more personal note, my kitten is growing fast and strong. He's doing quite well, and I'm glad, considering the number of toys he has to keep him occupied while I'm working!" Laughing, she glances to one side. "I got to meet Tilly's brother, Zelan. I like him. Enough like his sister to make it seem like I've known him a long time, but different enough to be his own person."
"As far as other things, go... I'm glad to repair a friendship I'd thought lost." She pauses for a moment and looks thoughtful. "Goodness. It feels like so much has happened this last month or so, but it boils down to quite a simple list, doesn't it? I need to start handing out the presents I got for the holidays--an Earth tradition I quite enjoy. Hopefully, before everyone departs the station. I'll be staying here with Mother, she's a bit happier with me now." Her eyes roll. "So, that, at least is more comfortable. Even if she is grilling my friends behind my back. Which reminds me. That Dr. Halsey... she's a character, isn't she? I need to get with Motoko and compare notes. Her with my mother, and me with Dr. Halsey. Should be an interesting, and possibly informative, conversation."
A soft chime interrupts her.
"Ah, it's time. So much for my rambles. Hopefully, this will jog my memory in years to come--hopefully, this will be times I want to have remembered." With a final smile, she reaches forward and taps the screen, ending the log.
"Well, let's start with the most recent. Terix is finally past. I think. It seems to me that we have managed to offend them enough that they won't be seeking the diplomatic table or even neutral relations anytime soon. The one person who was on our side, we seemed to insult." She sighs. "Of course, they were uncompromising and put us in a very bad position, themselves. So it wasn't a very good situation, either way."
"Let's see. Maiell's little problem is becoming much worse. A potential terrorist attack--I suspect on New Bajor--and still have no idea who is behind it. The only clue I have is that I believe it's one of my own people. I have a theory." Another deep breath. "We'll see--I could be wrong. I'm afraid I'm right. But I hope that we find out before anything happens."
"On a more positive note, things are looking up on my ship. I have a new XO--Zee. She's a Commander, like me, but doesn't seem to mind taking orders from me. She's telepathic, like me, which means we'll be a terror to the crew," she chuckles. "An Aenar, but if she's got any sort of complications, we'll figure out ways around them. The computer will be an enormous help. Also a new operations officer, Ensign Niraj. A human, so good balance for my crew. I've done an away mission with her before, I know she's competent. I look forward to seeing her at work."
Leaning back in her chair, she smiles more and runs her fingers through her hair. "On a more personal note, my kitten is growing fast and strong. He's doing quite well, and I'm glad, considering the number of toys he has to keep him occupied while I'm working!" Laughing, she glances to one side. "I got to meet Tilly's brother, Zelan. I like him. Enough like his sister to make it seem like I've known him a long time, but different enough to be his own person."
"As far as other things, go... I'm glad to repair a friendship I'd thought lost." She pauses for a moment and looks thoughtful. "Goodness. It feels like so much has happened this last month or so, but it boils down to quite a simple list, doesn't it? I need to start handing out the presents I got for the holidays--an Earth tradition I quite enjoy. Hopefully, before everyone departs the station. I'll be staying here with Mother, she's a bit happier with me now." Her eyes roll. "So, that, at least is more comfortable. Even if she is grilling my friends behind my back. Which reminds me. That Dr. Halsey... she's a character, isn't she? I need to get with Motoko and compare notes. Her with my mother, and me with Dr. Halsey. Should be an interesting, and possibly informative, conversation."
A soft chime interrupts her.
"Ah, it's time. So much for my rambles. Hopefully, this will jog my memory in years to come--hopefully, this will be times I want to have remembered." With a final smile, she reaches forward and taps the screen, ending the log.
4 Likes
The log begins with an image of Beylara seated at her desk. She's in uniform, but her hair falls loosely around her shoulders. Her gaze is fixed upon the camera steadily. Steam rises from a teacup before her, and she wriggles fingers through it, wreather them in the hazy fog. There is a small, pink envelope on the desk next to the mug.
"It's been a while since I've done one of these. Maybe because I thought, for a time, that there were things I didn't want to remember. Not that I've had much of a choice. They'll all be in my Captain's log."
She leans back, staring up at the ceiling. Both hands run through her hair, taking a double handful of hair and tugging slowly, then moving to another section--after careful observation, this is clearly a massage technique, although it might have some side benefits of releasing some frustration.
"I am reminded, sometimes, that command is lonely." She pauses. "Speaking of lonely, I am reminded of an Earth speaker--a comedian, actually. Her name was Lily Tomlin. She said: 'Remember, we're all in this alone.' A short, poignant way to say exactly what I've been thinking lately. Whether it's the mission I've been working on, leaving me wondering exactly what sources I can trust, or just being around people in general. Finding that someone you leaned on doesn't see you in the same way. That hurts. Reminds you that maybe you shouldn't have leaned on them to begin with. Everywhere you turn, there's reminders that isolation is for the best. A surface set of friendships. That's what a commanding officer needs."
Beylara's head droops a little, depressed or just plain weary. The tea, by now, has stopped steaming. The golden liquid sits in its little cup just waiting patiently.
"I can't block everyone out. There's some people who are just too close. And people I thought were close who were happy to walk away without another thought. That's a lesson learned, too. Twice over. Well, this time I will quote an Earth novelist. 'Solitude is fine but you need someone to tell that solitude is fine.' That one was Honoré de Balzac."
Then she groans and covers her face with a hand, her voice coming out muffled for a few words before she moves her fingers.
"And let's not forget my suddenly super-social mother. Planning a dinner party on the eve of her departure. No, I will not be going. At least she will be leaving, at long last."
She shakes her head. Hair falls forward and she pushes the ebony locks back out of her face with undisguised irritation. Beylara shoves the little pink envelope to the floor.
"I have far too much work to do to keep worrying over this stuff. I have a Councilman to interview and a patrol to organize. A trip to Earth. Me. Ridiculous."
A moment. Then: "Computer. End Log."
"It's been a while since I've done one of these. Maybe because I thought, for a time, that there were things I didn't want to remember. Not that I've had much of a choice. They'll all be in my Captain's log."
She leans back, staring up at the ceiling. Both hands run through her hair, taking a double handful of hair and tugging slowly, then moving to another section--after careful observation, this is clearly a massage technique, although it might have some side benefits of releasing some frustration.
"I am reminded, sometimes, that command is lonely." She pauses. "Speaking of lonely, I am reminded of an Earth speaker--a comedian, actually. Her name was Lily Tomlin. She said: 'Remember, we're all in this alone.' A short, poignant way to say exactly what I've been thinking lately. Whether it's the mission I've been working on, leaving me wondering exactly what sources I can trust, or just being around people in general. Finding that someone you leaned on doesn't see you in the same way. That hurts. Reminds you that maybe you shouldn't have leaned on them to begin with. Everywhere you turn, there's reminders that isolation is for the best. A surface set of friendships. That's what a commanding officer needs."
Beylara's head droops a little, depressed or just plain weary. The tea, by now, has stopped steaming. The golden liquid sits in its little cup just waiting patiently.
"I can't block everyone out. There's some people who are just too close. And people I thought were close who were happy to walk away without another thought. That's a lesson learned, too. Twice over. Well, this time I will quote an Earth novelist. 'Solitude is fine but you need someone to tell that solitude is fine.' That one was Honoré de Balzac."
Then she groans and covers her face with a hand, her voice coming out muffled for a few words before she moves her fingers.
"And let's not forget my suddenly super-social mother. Planning a dinner party on the eve of her departure. No, I will not be going. At least she will be leaving, at long last."
She shakes her head. Hair falls forward and she pushes the ebony locks back out of her face with undisguised irritation. Beylara shoves the little pink envelope to the floor.
"I have far too much work to do to keep worrying over this stuff. I have a Councilman to interview and a patrol to organize. A trip to Earth. Me. Ridiculous."
A moment. Then: "Computer. End Log."
6 Likes
The screen lights up and Beylara is before it once more. She is pouring out a golden tea from a glass teapot, and there's a mixture of two types of leaves in it. Once it is empty, she sets it down and picks up the mug instead, cradling it in her hands. Blowing gently on the surface to cool it, she takes a sip, completing the ritual before she begins speaking.
"It's been a long time since I've done one of these. What should I say?" After a moment's thought, she tries to pick up the thread of talking again. "Overall, I think things are improved. We are about to conclude the study with the Cardassian Voles. I think it's great. I've become rather fond of the critters and hope we can find good homes or places to keep them for the duration of their lives once the study is over. We should monitor them for long-term effects of the medication anyway, but what it boils down to, is the fact that I think it would be cruel to do anything else."
"Emery and I took a trip to Vulcan to take care of something in his past. Tm'Sar and S'Lve were an honour to meet, particularly knowing how much of a part of his life they involve. It was a shame I didn't meet S'Lve until his faculties were going and, well, he's no longer with us." Her voice conveyed all the sadness her calm expression failed to show. "I will say that it was one of the most exhausting experiences of my life, though. I hope to never repeat such a thing again." Her lips purse in a grimace. "I'd be happier if it hadn't left such a mark. But experiences like that should leave a mark. I guess. And it was, after all, in a good cause. It's helped me and Emery grow closer." She opens her mouth to say more and then closes it quickly. Smiles and shakes her head, leaving it at that.
"On a brighter note, Ben took me to try out this new holodeck program and it's really fun, if a bit intense and realistic! The clothes are, to be honest, a challenge. I'm not used to wearing skirts like that. It's pretty though!" She beams at the camera and takes a sip. "I can't wait until the next time! I am really looking forward to seeing more of the different characters. Arthur was so nice!"
"That and I learned how to ride a cutting horse to cut cattle the other night. It's so scary, the way the horse jukes out from under you. I thought I was going to fall every couple of seconds. Back and forth, back and forth! The horse does most of the work, you really have to concentrate on staying on his back!"
There's another moment where the brightness dims, but she seems to ignore it. "Going on a trail ride tomorrow, too. That's going to be loads of fun. I'm really looking forward to the company."
She seems thoughtful, and counts off a few things on her fingers. "Yeah, that's all that's really interesting right now. Nothing else worth going over. I think that covers it for the time be--oh. I'm in Aries Squadron now." Her voice goes bland and mild. "It'll be fun doing long-term exploration missions for a change. I like the idea. We're working on surveying Isep Xedi, bit by bit. It's something we can do and then come back every so often, so it's not like we're staying out all that long. Filling in planetary data gaps.
She leans forward. "That's it for now." And click, the recording ends.
"It's been a long time since I've done one of these. What should I say?" After a moment's thought, she tries to pick up the thread of talking again. "Overall, I think things are improved. We are about to conclude the study with the Cardassian Voles. I think it's great. I've become rather fond of the critters and hope we can find good homes or places to keep them for the duration of their lives once the study is over. We should monitor them for long-term effects of the medication anyway, but what it boils down to, is the fact that I think it would be cruel to do anything else."
"Emery and I took a trip to Vulcan to take care of something in his past. Tm'Sar and S'Lve were an honour to meet, particularly knowing how much of a part of his life they involve. It was a shame I didn't meet S'Lve until his faculties were going and, well, he's no longer with us." Her voice conveyed all the sadness her calm expression failed to show. "I will say that it was one of the most exhausting experiences of my life, though. I hope to never repeat such a thing again." Her lips purse in a grimace. "I'd be happier if it hadn't left such a mark. But experiences like that should leave a mark. I guess. And it was, after all, in a good cause. It's helped me and Emery grow closer." She opens her mouth to say more and then closes it quickly. Smiles and shakes her head, leaving it at that.
"On a brighter note, Ben took me to try out this new holodeck program and it's really fun, if a bit intense and realistic! The clothes are, to be honest, a challenge. I'm not used to wearing skirts like that. It's pretty though!" She beams at the camera and takes a sip. "I can't wait until the next time! I am really looking forward to seeing more of the different characters. Arthur was so nice!"
"That and I learned how to ride a cutting horse to cut cattle the other night. It's so scary, the way the horse jukes out from under you. I thought I was going to fall every couple of seconds. Back and forth, back and forth! The horse does most of the work, you really have to concentrate on staying on his back!"
There's another moment where the brightness dims, but she seems to ignore it. "Going on a trail ride tomorrow, too. That's going to be loads of fun. I'm really looking forward to the company."
She seems thoughtful, and counts off a few things on her fingers. "Yeah, that's all that's really interesting right now. Nothing else worth going over. I think that covers it for the time be--oh. I'm in Aries Squadron now." Her voice goes bland and mild. "It'll be fun doing long-term exploration missions for a change. I like the idea. We're working on surveying Isep Xedi, bit by bit. It's something we can do and then come back every so often, so it's not like we're staying out all that long. Filling in planetary data gaps.
She leans forward. "That's it for now." And click, the recording ends.
6 Likes