I hate SI- I’m alive


I am alive… And I hate Starfleet Intelligence


Personal Log – 56471.08


Busy busy busy…. Busy….. Busy…… Busy…..

That’s all I seem to be lately. If I’m not in a briefing, I’m in a debriefing, or I’m writing a report on the effect on responsiveness of a point zero four seven percent increase in the flow of plasma through the secondary impulse manifold whilst rounding an asteroid with a mass over nine thousand tonnes. The amount of time I’m actually spending in the pilots seat seems to be getting less and less.

I suppose at least it distracts me from other things. Things like Lynya. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t been able to call her. I’ve sent her letters but she hasn’t replied to any of them. Cortak says they’re all busy and Chep, well all he talks about is what last nights dinner consisted of, gagh lightly sautéed asparagus by the way.

I suppose I just feel lonely, even when I’m in a briefing surrounded by fifty other people, I don’t know them.

When I get back to quarters, Mike is already asleep and he has the early shift at the moment so we rarely speak. The most one on one interaction I have with a person in a day is when I’m handing in a report to Thompson.

I miss her.


Personal Log – 56424.89


Busy week again.
We were continuing the testing of the new Runabout engines. On Thursday we were calibrating the inertial dampers from scratch, basically that means strapping in and holding on to your seat with the Dampers disabled until the engineers say to stop. Wow they have some acceleration I can tell you. Thompson says they’re working on some new Damper tech that’ll allow us to pull ludicrously high G manoeuvres whilst sipping Raktajino from a china cup.

That was probably the most exciting part of the week work-wise.

On Friday, a couple of us from AFRT went to the Theatre in the Capital and watched the Royal Rigelian theatre company perform Les Misérables. I must say, for a 400 year old play about events 500 years ago, it’s stood the test of time. Thoroughly enjoyable night.

Oh and this weekend was the three hundred and sixty fifth anniversary of Queen Elisabeth the Second’s Diamond Jubilee, you’ve got to hand it to 21st century Britain, they sure knew how to party. I’m making it a tradition now to celebrate by watching these recordings of the concert and boat pageant etcetera etcetera and drinking copious amounts of champagne whilst devouring a few boxes of strawberries dipped in sugar… Ok I’m weird, I know, you can stop staring at me now.


Personal Log Suplemental – 56405.38


That was weird.
I just got off of a 7 hour Runabout Engine Test and I was taking the results up to the Engineering lab when as I was passing Thompsons office and out of the corner of my eye I spotted that guy again, the one that was speaking to Admiral Wilson at U.P. before my promotion.
So I stopped and listened for a few moments, I could barely make out what they were saying but I’m sure they mentioned my name. I stupidly dropped the PADD and they suddenly stopped talking. I got the hell out of there before they spotted me.

I know I’ve seen him somewhere before. It’s that hair… Where’ve I seen that hair before…
Slick black hair… Strange guy popping up…. SLICK BLACK HAIR, BLACK LEATHER…
No, You’re going mad Dax…


Personal Log – 56404.87


Computer, begin Ensigns Log.

Wow, somehow I never thought I’d be saying that.

Ensign Dax Hamilton.

This week’s been interesting to say the least. It started off with a 6am transport to Utopia Planitia on Monday, all of the guys were there to see me off. I was surprised to see Professor Johnston there, he told me that he’s proud of me for making this decision. He was the one who recommended for Red Squad after he saw me fly for the first time.
Lynya was there too, she looked happy for me, but there was something in her eyes and I know it wasn’t Taran. Whatever was up, I know it was all Lynya. Oh god I hope she’s not pregnant, not that I wouldn’t want a kid with her, I love her, I want to spend the rest of my life with her it’s just… Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever really thought of spending the rest of my life with her before.
I’m getting off topic. So after the hugs, kisses and in Cheps case, a box of bratwurst had been exchanged I was off to my new life.

When I arrived at Utopia station I was escorted to a briefing room and met the other new members of AFRT. I was thoroughly out ranked by most, with the majority being lieutenants and such. There were a few ensigns but everyone had been out of the academy for a few years at least. In all there were about 20 newbies.
About twenty minutes later, Admiral Wilson stepped into the room and made her way down the long flight of steps into the centre of the lower bowl in the room. She activated the holographic display and did a roll call, I think really it was to help us put names to faces because as she said their names, they would appear on the display. My picture isn’t the most flattering.
Then she gave off a spiel about what AFRT do and what would be expected of us. I have to say, the most dramatic moment was when someone spilt their raktajino over the top banister narrowly avoiding the Admirals head.

After all that was done, we were told to take some time to get to know each other then to report to one of four hanger bays depending on our assignment. Just as I was going to find the nearest mess with some of others, a commander came up to me and told me to meet the Admiral in the ante room.

Just as I was entering, I saw a man leaving, he was in a Starfleet uniform but didn’t have any rank insignia on him, I could have sworn I’d seen him before. Anyway, that’s when I received my gold pip. I didn’t know it til after she’d placed my new insignia on but my Dad and Captain Raymer had sneaked in after me. They were so proud. The Admiral, though smiling slightly, had a strange look in her eye. Thinking back now, it was almost the same look Lynya had had. Weird huh.

So after that I went for some food with Dad and the Captain then met back up with the others before we headed down to hanger bay two where a transport was waiting to take us to Rigel IV.

That was a long, boring flight. Still I got to talk to this betazoid named Kwan Polo. He’s a lieutenant and was just transferred from a stint on the Thunderchild. He’s fascinating. He served as a pilot in the Dominion War, he was actually at the Battle for Cardassia.

We arrived on Tuesday night and were only given a very brief orientation, basically where our quarters were and where we’d be meeting in the morning. I’d be bunking with a guy called Michael Sori. I didn’t see him that night or the next morning, but I knew he’d been in because some of this stuff had been moved around.
The four of us newbies met in a large courtyard at 0900 where we were met by a Commander Thompson and Admiral Wilson. I have to say, in the the wonderful Rigellian sunlight that morning, the two fairly attractive blondes looked more like they should be on Risa in swimwear than in uniform. Hmm, should I really be saying that, what if my mum sees it… Oh to hell with it, they’re both hot.
It turned out Thompson was our new squadron leader. She was one of the very best according to the Admiral.

We spent the next two days in simulators and doing maintenance on various small craft to get used to what we were supposed to be flying. Then on Saturday, we beamed to the AFRT station in orbit of the planet, facility 74.
There we were taken to a briefing room that was similar in shape to the one at Utopia. A railed platform ran around the circular room with a staircase on one side leading down into a large open pit below that was overlooked on all sides by the platform above. A column would raise from the centre of the lower level from the speaker that would place them at a level just below that of the upper tier. The only entrance was on the upper tier. I felt so at home there, the lighting was subdued and when Commander Thompson was giving our brief she opened the blast shutters to one side of the room and outside, hanging above the blue and green planet were three peregrine class fighters that were to be ours.

She explained that she and Admiral Wilson expected great things from us, that we are now AFRT and are expected to act as such. Then she gave us our assignments.

The gist of what I’m going to be doing for a whole now is pushing my ship to her limits and testing some new propulsion tech. Might sound boring, but all I have to do is fly through one of the most dangerous asteroid fields in the Federation, everyday, as fast as I can and let the scientists and engineers do the fiddily bits. I’m still going to watch them like a hawk.

Sunday was my day off, I finally met my bunk mate and my god, he has a magnificent beard. Seems to be an alright guy, but he has a bit of a weird taste in music.

I tried to call Spots too, but she wasn’t there so I sent her a subspace message instead. I miss her so much already.


Personal Log – 56380.7


Advanced Flight and Research Training grounds. That’s where I’m headed. Probably against my better judgment.

I may not know where it’s going to take me, I just know that I’ll be doing what I love.

I woke up this morning and just knew that it’s what I should do. I have no idea why.

Usually people wouldn’t be starting their assignments for a few weeks or at least after Graduation, Admiral Wilson however wants me at Utopia on Monday.

I broke the news to Spots over lunch, for some reason she was over the moon, I’ll be at the other end of the solar system most of the time whilst she’s stuck in Command School and partying it up all night. I’m just going to miss her, you know?

Apart from that and the gach being a little cold and slow, it wasn’t a bad afternoon. Oh actually I could have sworn I saw that guy in the black leathers watching us again but Lynya just said I was imagining. I probably shouldn’t worry but when she said it, It didn’t look like Lynya, it looked like Taran. That probably sounds crazy but there are times when it isn’t Lynya speaking, it’s Taran, I think she thinks I don’t notice, but there’s just something that changes about her. I know they’re supposed to be one and the same now, but they just not. I don’t know, I’m probably being– oh hey Cortak, how was your—

Spoony just told me that we’re going out tomorrow night for my final blowout, just in case I’m not back for graduation. Sunday night’s an interesting time to do it but hey, needs must. I’m going to be rough on Monday.

This is probably going to be my last Personal Log as a Cadet.

Cadet Dax Hamilton Out.


Personal Log – 56364.7


I’m standing at a cross-roads.

I have no idea what I should do, I’m just confused, in every sense of the word and Chep and Cortak aren’t being any help, for that matter neither is Lynya.

Sema has been the only voice of reason but that still doesn’t help me much.

I need to decide soon.

 

What do you think? HA, look at me, now I’m asking a computer to help me decide my fate or at best I’m asking some random person who’s stumbled across this log.

Oh well.


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