Personal Log: Legrasse, Hercule

Personal Log

STARDATE: 495769.6

The recording opens on the living room of regular Deep Space 13 officer quarters, the decor is enhanced with actual paper bound books, a few vases and other archaeological artifacts and potted plants. A man is pacing along the room in front of the camera, sometimes, but rarely, going offscreen. He is wearing what appears to be a house vest, his mustache and dark hair still well groomed but his expressione evidently irritated.

Three weeks… three damnable weeks! How is one even to eat decently around here when it takes three weeks to get fresh Targ entrails on the station? How am I supposed to make haggis à la Korg, or targ kidney with sweet and sour onion sauce? Do they imagine that replicated food is as good for the soul and morale as… sufficient for the body?

Shakes his head, moving toward the terminal and finally sitting down at the desk and can now be seen only from the chest up. Sitting down appears to have an immediate effect on him as his mood changes and a smile appears on his lips while he folds his arms in front of himself.

The first evening on the base has been already quite eventful. I was lucky enough to encounter Starbase thirteen’s C.O., Captain Varley. She seems to be a dedicated officer showing a rigid if not cold façade, but she did assign me to quarters complete with a private kitchen… of course, it is useless without ingredients, but it is a start. Still, her attitude might have been for the benefit of the Vorta present.

He leans back and his hands come up, joining his fingertips in front of his face.

The latter, Kalris, I have encountered twice now and our chats have been… stimulating. She appears to have a keen interest in Earth history, specifically on the subject of the Roman Empire, something she compared to the Dominion. She also seems very keen to demonstrate the Dominion’s superiority, which is to be expected, and attempted to demonstrate how the Federation’s morals are not as sound as publicized. Talking to her is almost like fighting a duel. The most interesting part, is that the Federation officers do not seem to have any qualm in speaking against her and in a very direct manner… at times, I would also say, in an offensive fashion. There are definitely mysteries, answeres to be searched… this will be an enjoyable assignment.

He lets out a brief chuckle before lowering a hand and ending the recording.


Personal Log

STARDATE: 93011.44

The impeccably dressed figure of Hercule Legrasse is comfortably sitting at his desk, reclining slightly in the chair and holding a glass containing a blueish, opaque liquid which he slowly, lazily swirls. The only detail which appears to be vaguely off is slightly loosened tie, in perfect accord with the slow movements he is imparting on the glass and the relaxed, jazz version of “My favourite things” playing in the background. He takes a sip, evidently taking his time in thinking of how to actually begin the log already opened by the computer then lets out a languid sigh.

Well, the meeting went as well as could be expected, I suppose.

He shifts his gaze directly into the glass, staring at it intently, as if he could find the answers, or the words to continue the log in the liquid contained in it and slowly warmed in his palm

Nothing really came of it or my suggestions to create an, underground railway of sorts, to extract any dissidents of the current Xedi regime. Of course, my suggestion of infiltrating agents and effectively violating sovereign territory of a foreign state was provocative, which is why I went in expecting nothing less than a refusal. Such an operation is surely not unprecedented, but it would as certainly put not only Starfleet officers and agents, but the very credibility of the Federation at risk. Were such actions to be discovered and proof of our involvement found, the political fallout would be… quite unpleasant. But that is why I knew that a refusal was in order, nonetheless, I would have been remiss had I not made the suggestion.

The tone is light, as if the refusal did not really touch him, as if he was as prepared as he has repeated, or maybe because the content of the glass from which he now takes a sip have dulled his disappointment

The Federation must wait, that was the verdict. Wait and see the developments, what the regime and what the people do in response. That is what I must and have accepted. But I do so with a heavy heart not only because, as mentioned by Captain Varley herself, it is always difficult to sit and watch, to accept impotence; it is also because I know in my heart of hearts that a society is about to be destroyed. A society ehich, I might add, was quite attractive and fascinating to study in its strange mix of Platonic Republic and Voltairian or even Robesperriesque deification of knowledge. Unfortunately, if there is something which the whole ofgalactic civilization seems to have in common is the mentality of the military establishment. In any society which has a dedicated miitary, that group tends to have a rather narrow vision in all things, which makes also its search for knowledge excesively focused and its economic management… unsuitable to civil life. It is, after all, a fact that most if not all military regimes have failed spectacularly on the economic front, plunging their countries’ economies in recession and their people into misery and hunger. That, is why I forsee a bloodbath on Isep Xedi, not only because of the predictable purges which are undoubtably taking place as I am recording this log.

He lets out a sigh, his expression visibly souring with every word spoken and his gaze lost somewhere definitely unpleasant. He seems to comtemplate his glass with more interest for a moment, before abandoning to return where he previously had lost himself

The Dominion’s investment in the planet will only make things more complicated since it will certainly give the current government allies too invested in the current status quo to let it fail. And even if they do decide to withdraw, that in and of itself might precipitate an economic crysis. But then again, the Dominion does not really hav a history of really caring for the welfare of its own citizens, let alone a vassal state or an economic investment as Isep Xedi appears to have become. I honestly do hope that the wait will not cost too many lives and that the intervention, when it will come, will be timely and effective.

Slowly, with the passing of seconds, a light smile appears again on his lips, possibly helped by a sip of whatever blueish spirit he keeps on swirling and warming in the palm of his right hand

On a more positive note, at least the meeting did give me the occasion to better know and understand my new Commanding Officer, beginning with the fact that she did give me the occasion to speak even though we both knew the more probable outcome. She does appear aloof, even cold, but she is most definitely attentive and supportive of her crew and that, is a leader I can respect and follow.

The man finally shifts his gaze from the glass which he sets lightly on the desk, his fingers still wrapped around it, but his eyes are now focused on the screen.

Anything else about her, will have to wait coffee.Speaking of which, after the meeting I went to the Event Horizon, hoping against all hope that this time my usual spiced arabic would be unreplicated and lo and behold, it was. A local chef, called himself Ramsax, was present and apparently he occasionally does moonlight at the bar. He did seem quite pretentious, initially refusing to serve me coffee but, in the end acquiesced. They all do. Another useful contribution of his to my day, though, was revealing his source for fresh ingredients in the person of Captain Nimiz no less; I shall have to try and convince him to spare some space in his cargo hold for me too. Although I must say that I finally appear to be making inroads on the starbase. I heard of someone who might be able to procure fresh spices… I must investigate this.

He lets out a mirthful chuckle and takes another sip from his glass, leaning back again in his chair.

I do look forward to dining in chef Ramsax’s restaurant

The with a gesture from his free hend, the log ends