Personal Log, Ansha Bast Wind-People

(( IF YOU READ THIS IT IS CONSIDERED OOC KNOWLEDGE ))

98968.6
IT’S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR
Yay, Psyche Evals, Joy To the World, spin the Dreidel, Qapla’ it’s fishing time, etc…

Summary

There’s a litany of 19th, 20th, and 21st century Earth songs about the Western Traditional Holidays that center around Earth’s Winter Solstice. Some are of a religious nature, some are just marketing tools, and some… sheesh. I am beginning to hate them all, and while it’s a sublime experience (I’ll explain that and the Wind People philosophy of life later) that’s just not a good attitude to have. Looking back, being security on a small escort class starship with 90 souls as crew was not a good preparation for the girding of mental loins necessary for the Holidays at a Space Station that is the nexus of travel in its region. I have had to stun 3 people already and it’s only Tuesday.

I do not sleep and I do not require it. I do require ‘me-time’ and recuperation in my cabin which is essentially my personal terrarium, but that is it for rest. That said I have a bad habit of letting the others go early and working doubles and triples. I’ve got to stop doing that. Getting frazzled is a sublime experience indeed but not one I enjoy.

Good for me experiencing this bipedal thing and choosing to be a woman and Starfleet officer in the modern universe. I’ve learned and experienced regret, embarrassment, shame, and the notion that there are some experiences that suck.

For future generations that may look upon this journal and be awe-struck by the pearls of wisdom, let me explain the desire for experiences that my species has.

First, I am a fungal colony. A sentient fungal colony, that is currently clinging to a now 20 year old, and quite rickety skeletal structure that was made for me when I was 5. It is short, based on a human 9 year old, and made of materials lying around. Enough on that. I could with a few years of adaptation and the right structure, be anything. I could be a targ, a spider, a Gorn, whatever. I was harvested as mycelium and grown to full fruit on a survey ship, surrounded by several bipeds, so I tried to emulate them.

We are the Wind People from the Grove of the Sweet Wood. We don’t stay in one place. We travel. Our colonies form ligatures around bones and sticks, figure out how to walk and communicate so that we can emulate others. Why do we do this? Because we want to know what it is like to be them. We want to experience life as that creature. We crave the “Sublime Experience.” We then come back to the collective and share those experiences as well as receive new ones from others.

What’s that 20th century Earth cartoon? Jungle Book, has a song “I want to be like you.” Yeah that’s us, except we aren’t apes, we’re fungus.

And you may ask, what is the sublime experience? It is the new experience. A new sensation. A fresh perspective. A new lesson taught. A rich new set of emotions felt. All of this. Neither good or bad, enjoyable or horrid, there is simply the sublime experience.

I have the collective knowledge of generations of Wind People up to my harvesting, at which time I was taken away, and disconnected from the collective, but not like the Borg, fyi. I’m not running around saying “resistance is futile” while turning people into fungus. I can go back and share my experiences, that is if I can ever find the planet. All the sights, smells, tastes, feelings, emotions, memories, friends, enemies, celebrations, disappointments… ALL OF IT.

The time Nashal zh’Bast said my name was Ansha, and that I was her zhi (daughter).
My first ‘I love you, Ansha’ from my Zhavey (mother).
The time Nashal was killed
The torturous experiments by Starfleet researchers that were finally stopped by Dr Singh.
Dr Singh and his wonderful family that made me one of their own in Punjabi on Earth
My first kiss with Sheenalla back at the boarding school in Mumbai.
My first ‘I love you, Ansha’ from Sheenalla, said in a completely different way than I had heard it before from my zhavey.
Getting caught with Sheenalla behind the cricket field house.
My acceptance into the Starfleet Academy
Finding our instructor commander dead while on my training cruise.
The embarrassing rumors and shame they caused.
Getting stood up because my date said he was “allergic to mold.” … I’m closer to the Eauscomycetes-like Morchella Tuber family than I am mold. I’m a bloody truffle for god’s sakes! And he was in the Science branch. Should know mycology. ANYWAY
Getting my first assignment, the USS Huntsville
The first successful rescue
The first unsuccessful rescue
Being called ‘my little green problem solver’ by the CO
Taking another being’s life in the line of duty

All these are Sublime Experiences.

You see, the Wind People, were low to no tech. I am the first in collective history to be harvested and to leave the planet. Since then I have experienced and accumulated a millenia’s worth of knowledge comparatively and I am compelled to share it (not all of it, not the classified stuff… gotta get with the telepaths on that) though I would need to argue my case against the Prime Directive.

Nonetheless… here I am. I walk, I talk, I laugh at stupid jokes, I fall in love, I get heartbroken, I cry ugly, and I dance like no one is watching. I experience all that I can, and I am a fungal colony clinging precariously to a rickety, undersized, carbon fiber skeleton.

With the exception of the fungal part or perhaps the carbon fiber part, I guess that defines us all.

So now here I am in my room with a full day off after my psyche eval, thinking Commander Sedai is right, I NEED TO GET OUT AND DO SOMETHING ELSE. Yeah, going to dance again. There’s a club. There’s a dance floor. NO ONE USES IT? Time to get that party started.

Be right back

Back in my room, knees acting up, met a new person, Lieutenant Naixon? Smartass… I like her. I think. Also, I talked to Capt Drake Tungsten. He so nice. Handsome to boot… OK be professional, girl. Anyway, the Dragon THE FREAKIN DRAGON! has openings, and as much as I hate to leave Blake and Loxton short (DID THAT WHEN I ARRIVED HAHAHAHAHA ), I have to do this. Captain Tungsten was… he likes me. What I can bring in. I was so embarrassed. I’m sure I sounded like an idiot. BUT THE USS DRAGON IS A BEAST OF A SHIP. The firepower that thing has.

He said, “I saw you had tactical experience.” I could have spored and died right there.

Did I mention we are talking one of the most badass Lexington Class Dreadnaughts, which is already a badass class of ship? Cadets dream of that duty assignment.

I’m sitting here thinking I’ll take the (S)Whitworth if I they offered that stinky crate, or back to the Huntsville which was not a bad Soyuz class, BUT THE FREAKING DRAGON! THE CO OF THE DRAGON IS RECRUITING MY GREEN BUTT FOR HIS BRIDGE?!?!?!?

Ok, chiquita-verde, get it together, girl. I can hear those words as my Academy roommate Felina said them, in her Puerto Rican Spanish colored English.

I should have never changed from Tactical to Security. That was stupid. I should have ignored all those people. The rumors. I one hundred percent deserved to be training cruise captain, I did earn it. I worked hard for everything I did. Nothing was handed to me. I should have listened to Felina then too, and stood my ground. Anyway, I’m going back. One day I will command a ship. That was my dream then, and as it is now. I proved I can do it with that convoy on the bridge of the Atlantis, so now it’s time to start that journey for real.

Now I imagine she will say “Do it, girlfriend. Show 'em what the jolly green giant is capable of.”

First, I have to get rid of this damn kid’s skeleton and get something more adult looking and stronger. That’ll be a month of recovery possibly as I reform and cling to the new one. I can’t see doing that until after the Holidays because we are so busy and short-handed in security since the Terran breakout incident (may the dead rest, their watch is done).

I want to be taller, but not too tall as it’s still handy to be short for EVAs and boarding parties. I want to have a longer neck for a deeper voice . I want a larger chest cavity so my air bellows will be able to make me speak louder. I want to have a more adult looking face. I want to keep the rest of these dangerous curves though, ‘cuz I got it goin’ on, as Felina would say. I gotta call her and see how she is doing. I miss her. She was good for my self-esteem

So, self-image issues… another bipedal thing and a sublime experience. Another first for the Jolly Green Giant. Hahaha. You know, maybe Lieutenant Naixon was right when she said " wear all those insecurities like armor and you’ll be invincible." I pretty sure that was sarcasm, at least that’s how I’ll take it.

Anyway, gotta call Felina and check in my (not-really) homegirl, then Dr Singh about how we should do this skeleton exchange. Darnit, Vaana is going to be upset I won’t be home for Vaisakhi but if I transfer I don’t want to take leave and be behind my bridge watch qualifications. She will understand.

the future calls,
Wind People out.

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(( OOC KNOWLEDGE ))
Stardate: 98984.9
New Packaging, Same Great Taste!

Summary

I finally getting that post-pubescent growth-spurt like all my school friends got, albeit by brute force, but I am getting it.

What changes, what stays? It’s the decision we all have a chance to make in a way. Some changes happen by choice, some happen by way of fate. Dr Singh was fond of telling me that a house torn down is a chance for a new improved house. It is a chance to rebuild. Do not lament what once was, rejoice in the opportunity to build anew. Rejoice in the divine inspiration that will come from the choices that we will make while rebuilding.

In a few days I’m going to be a boneless blob of fungal flesh floating in a nutrient tank as my old skeleton is removed and my new skeleton is introduced. I will be taller (roughly 1.6 meters) but not to much taller, and my face will appear more adult. I’ll have a deeper voice as I’ll have a long neck and voice box, and a larger rib cage for my air bellows to operate in. I’ll have new, better eyeball lenses. I’ll have new synthetic hair (WHAT COLOR??? I JUST DO NOT KNOW). And… I will still be green because there’s not much I can do about that without impacting my ability to breath and because… well, that is me. I am keeping the antennae because they actually do have a function and because… that is also me.

Do you know what else stays? The true me. The inside me. The morals, the ethics, the desires, the ideals, the attitudes, the skills, the love, the hate… all that is truly me stays. I am keeping that like it is gold pressed latnum and I am the stingiest mizer in the galaxy.

I am scared. Not for the pain, which I will not feel. I will be awake through all of it. I am in no danger of dying as long as the team doing this are cautious as to what chemicals they use. But, I am scared that people will not like what they see. I am scared it will not work. I am scared I will not like it and have regrets. I am like many, scared of change. I truly novel sublime experience, as will this whole process.

Still, what if I look in the mirror 14 days from now and do not like what I see. Will I recognize myself. Will you still love me? … or well at least like me? OKAY Tolerate me? I will settle for tolerate.

Dr Singh and his wife, Vaana, have said time and time again, that even though my skeleton is fabricated, that it was God’s will that inspired it’s creation and therefore my looks are Divine. I should not change. I countered with, then it was therefore God’s will and inspiration that this skeleton be temporary and would be replaced with an adult as is yours by growth. They did side with me, begrudgingly, on the condition that I call them first thing once I am healed and abel so that they can see the grown up me. I love them. I beginning to see this deity they worship as good one for placing me in their care.

XOXO
Ansha

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IN TANK FLOATING

S TESTT TSST+++
SD
G

TEST AH GOT IT.
CANT TYYPE WELLS WTH TENDDRRSIL NO BONS.
NEED EYEABBBBLSLLL TO

AT LEST I CAN HEAR. BACK TO TACTICALL GUIADES MUST STUDY FOR NEW JOB!!!

BLOBANSHA

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Stardate 98998.4

Hello from the tank.

OOC Knowledge

Seems a shame to get rid of my handy dandy tentacle now that I have gotten the hang of it, but it might spook the other humanoids. I don’t know, maybe if I can hide it… OR what if I had a tail? eh… I will think on it.

Today’s literary masterpiece is Tactical Console Operation, which I am taking a break from because for one thing, the only thing I can get is a general operator’s guide for the old mark five that were on the excelsiors. I couldn’t get anything on the Lexington class because it’s restricted and need to know, which I do not have until I transfer. I mean, I imagine it is in the ballpark. Nonetheless, I think I will use my handy dandy tentacle to watch a 2D movie or something.

The day before last was horrible. Some cleaning routine went off and started putting cleaning fluid in the tank from what I gather. I did not feel pain from anything else done so far but that was truly painful. There are three things that I find painful, and toxins are one of them. I am so very thankful of Jodi and her staff.

Yesterday was wonderful. Made so much progress. I was still pretty worn out from the day before but doing well enough. I have almost wrapped myself around the new skeleton. Then I will get my air bellows in place, sort out my various, somewhat decorative lady parts, get the facial features set up, and I guess after that it’s out of the tank and testing everything.

I need to eat
I need to defecate
I need to speak
I need to see (after eyeballs are installed)
I need to stand, walk, sit, run, pickup, grasp, etc… all the motions

Today is hopefully going to be a good day. I’m ready to be done with this.

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