Stardate 20110518.0905
Another one wanting to take over command of the vessel. I presume it was to be expected ever since he came aboard.
I know what I have to do.
19-2-Water, 1944 A.S.
Stardate 20120520.0338
Stardate 20110516.1336
I never would have thought that I would write this one day and I have tried to avoid it for as long as possible, not even daring to admit this to myself: I am unmotivated; I no longer experience satisfaction at performing my duty; my tasks bore me; I feel as if nothing matters anymore.
Maybe I am simply homesick. I would love to be back in a familiar environment, aboard the Aidoann or at the estate. Surrounded by people whose actions and motivations I can understand, by family and friends. I would love to be able to follow Jaeih’s progress at Phi’lasasam. To see what kind of person she is becoming, which path she is taking, what future is awaiting her. No doubt, it will be successful. If she has inherited our father’s charisma and rethorical talent, she may become a diplomat or a politician. But by the time we return home, she will barely remember me. She will have a career, be bonded – hopefully to someone she loves – and have children and grand-children. I will have none of all that.
Yes, I am definitely homesick. But this is not the only thing that is having a negative impact on me. My short stay in the medical bay a few days after we crashlanded on Thalassia is also part of the issue. I probably should have rested a day or two longer and not returned to duty immediately. Ever since that, I have been feeling… exhausted. Not only physically, but also mentally.
Admittedly, that has other reasons as well. If I am entirely honest with myself – something that happens seldom enough these days – Aerv’saihlan is right. He exaggerated when he said that I was working sixteen/ten, but he is right when he says that consistently working too much when there is no real need for it may be a sign of problems. I think that ever since we arrived here and the situation has stabilised, I have improved on at least having lastmeal with him – he insists that I have one proper meal per day – and getting a few hours of sleep. But I admit that my behaviour is not healthy nor even logical. I do not know why I feel compelled to read every report as soon as it arrives, even those that do not require an acknowledgement or action on my part, instead of spending time together with Aerv’saihlan or taking care of myself. A few days ago, I managed to spend some time in the gym and I realised with surprise that I was out of shape. I need to start exercising more regularly again.
I work too much and achieve too little. I need to become efficient again. But even while writing this, I cannot help but think that I just cannot be bothered with anything duty-related right now. I want to spend an evening reading a book. Maybe use the holodeck with Aerv’saihlan. I would love to swim in the lagoon, to relax on the beach and feel the warm sunlight on my face. And yet I know that I will switch off this haudet’ and reach for another one to read the new reports that have arrived since I started writing this log entry.
Stardate 20110322.1038
My last entry into my journal dates back several tendays which happens rarely. But in the recent past, while the need to write and to confide was there, I was unable to come to terms with the situation, was unable to form the words that would adequately describe how I am feeling. And while I seem finally able to write again, I do not yet know whether the words that need to come out will.
Much has happened. As much in my professional as in my personal life.
Having written this, I do not know where to begin. Maybe with the professional part.
I am the vessel’s executive officer again. I still do not manage to be enthousiastic about it. Probably because I know that it was not my own actions which earned me that position but a Starfleet mutiny. A rather well executed one even. Once more, I am a piece in a board game, but I could not refuse the offer. While I enjoyed working as a medical officer again after so many years, even if it was more stressful than commanding the Areinnye’Aidoann with the apparently permamently injured Bershefonians, we need someone at the command level of this ship. Given my previous experience, I was the most suitable candidate.
For now, I have been doing my duty at this position. Not much more, I have to admit, but not too little to draw unwarranted attention to myself. For some reaon, I have been going through the motions, doing what needs to be done, but not feeling really concerned by any of it. It is not that I do not want to return home – indeed, there is nothing I want more – but I feel… I do not know. Detached from events, maybe. Not as energetic as I used to feel.
A few tendays ago, actually until the mutiny, I would have blamed it on lack of sleep. Due in part to the longer shifts I have worked during the different emergencies involving the Bershefonians and in part to the fact of having to share not only quarters but also a couching room with Outworlders. Ever since having arrived aboard this vessel, I have feared for the old wounds to open again and was positively surprised when they did not and I was actually able to sleep soundly. Until I found myself assigned to common officers’ quarters. I have written before in a journal entry that I would make do with the situation. And I did. Maybe not in the most healthy way, but it has been working out well. Well enough. I guess.
The Theirrn attributed my way of dealing with the situation to the ‘rough patch’ we apparently went through in our relationship. While the assessment is in part true, I would not call it a ‘rough patch’. And I did not. I called it something worse. Now, I am not an expert in relationships, but I think that coming close to ending it is more than merely a ‘rough patch’. Maybe it would indeed have ended between us had I not had to give in to my need for sleep and turn to the only remedy I know. I was weak in that moment, but I do not regret it. As an added benefit, he /is/ making an effort now. He even redecorated our quarters and while I am still somewhat doubtful about some of his furniture choices, the place feels much more like home now.
Maybe it is this redecorating, creating a place to share in a way that I could never have hoped for back home, that is having an impact on our relationship. Maybe he is also merely bored and has decided to turn his attention to me. Things are different now compared to what they were only a few short months ago. He seems to care more. Seems to notice me more. Possibly for the better. Though I rather think it is for the worse at the moment. He commented on some of my habits.
Dhat, I cannot write about that particular discussion. If I do, I will need to find a sparring partner for a training session and I do not want to having to listen to a ‘use the holodeck to avoid injuries’ sermon afterwards.
In any case, I promised him that I would eat and sleep properly and I have been keeping my word. At least regarding sleep. But I am making an effort with my meals as well. Trying to. I have had secondmeal once or twice in the past few days.
Certainly all of this will be in the past soon. Just a small setback due to the stress of the unusual situation in addition to a slight lack of sleep. In a few days, everything will be fine again.
Stardate 20110210.1212
Elements, I hate her so much.
Whenever I see her from far or hear her voice or even read a memo coming from her, I want to throttle her. Even now, I can see me doing it. My hands clasping around her oh so delicate neck. Slowly excercing pressure on her trachea. Cutting off her airflow. Watching her face darken gradually. Feeling her heart beat quicken as adrenaline courses through her veins. Hearing her desperate tentatives to breathe. Staring into her wide open eyes. Maybe she is struggling. Maybe she is trying to begfor mercy.
And when she lays there on the ground, the last breath exhaled, she would finally stop being condescending and pretentious and abusive and taking everything for granted.
I cannot kill her, though. Not here. Not in this manner.
But there are other ways to achieve my goal. And when the time is right, I will employ them.
Stardate 20110204.0805
Another sleepless night lies thankfully behind me and I can occupy my mind again with duty-related questions and problems. The situation was bad enough when I only knew about the Trill and Klingon. But that there is actually a /Deltan/ as well…
If the ship was not full with all those Aliens, I would request a change of quarters. Alas that is not an option now. I could probably ask Aerv’saihlan for temporary shelter, but he did not offer me to share his quarters and I am not yet desperate enough to beg. I will just make do with other means for now.
Stardate 20110114.0501
I think I have made the right decision.
At least, it is the honourable decision. Which makes it the only one I could make and therefore the right one.
I cannot say that I am happy with the situation as it is, but it could be considered a crime against the Aevumih if I withheld my skills, refused to contribute to the success of this mission. Even if succeeding this mission may ‘merely’ mean bringingthe crew back home savely.
There are worse things than being removed from command. One is having to share my quarters with Outworlders. I do not mind having to share quarters and the shared space is even comparatively large to what officers of an equal rank would receive aboard the Aidoann. What I do mind is having to share with Outworlders I do not trust. It makes sleep difficult. Yet at the same time, I do not want to show the weakness of giving in and requesting to be reassigned to different quarters, of being unable to bear what most of the other Rihannsu aboard have to bear. I will make do. One way or the other.
I pray that the Elements will finally grant us a break. But with the recent tectonic disturbances on Bershefony which could have destroyed the ship and killed us all, I believe more and more that we have no business in this quadrant. At least, responsibility for whatever may happen does not lay with me anymore and I would be lying if I claimed that the weight of command was light on my shoulders. But it does not mean that I did not want to remain in command.
There is nothing I can do to change the situation, however, and I have decided to take advantage of my new assignment. It will be pleasant to have regular duty shifts. I am not certain yet what to do with all the off-duty time, but returning to a regular, more intensive exercise schedule will certainly be part of it.
Stardate 20101229.0502
The sun is barely rising over the horizon, painting the sand and rock around me in pastell colours. The air is still refreshingly cool for another hour maybe, then the blistering heat of the sun will heat the air, the sand and rocks surrounding me. But right now, this world is fresh and young and peaceful and I savour every instant of it.
There is no natural shade here nor even shelter or, as far as I was able to determine without making use of a salindh’yael, a source of water. Yet the presence of wild animals in this region indicates the contrary. They have not come close enough to be a threat to me yet, though that is probably merely a matter of time. I sleep little and always with a hand on my weapon, feeling strangely alive and sharp despite a growing lack of sleep.
I am far away from anything even remotely civilised and with every passing day, I feel better. Relieved, somehow. Beginning to relax. At night, I like to lie back and look at the unfamiliar stars, a view that should be normal to me, and yet even that is new somehow and it is good to know that one of them is Eisn, surrounded by the Twinworlds. Home.
Whether I will ever return there is a question I have avoided asking myself during the past few days, but it is one I have to answer before I return to the Voyager. Or at least before the vessel departs again. Now, with the sun already half risen over the horizon, a new day has begun and it is maybe time that I begin to ask myself what I want. What I do not want. Noone else is asking these questions in my stead and I am also the only person who can answer them. Before I look into my future, however, I will have to deal with my past, the remote as much as the recent. Maybe a part of my future will reveal itself there.
Stardate 20101218.1737
…
Stardate 20101130.0126
The past tenday has been quite animated to say the least. So much so that I have had trouble finding time to write in my journal even though I tried to reduce the number of my double shifts. But with the universal translators not working and the need for an interpreter, everything has been taking twice as long. The Theirrn was right when he pointed out to me that we were not in any immediately dangerous situation and that certainly was a relief. Nevertheless, having everything on the ship work only in slow motion is extremely annoying. Thankfully, after several days – and I still do not know why it took them so long – engineering was able to fix the translation tables.
The timing could not have been better, for it happened when I was performing surgery. When the Llairhi called me, saying that there was an emergency and I was needed in the medical bay, I was surprised. After all, we do have a staff of excellent medical officers. As it turned out, however, the trauma surgeon was a Rihanha whose experience with Outworlders was not sufficient enough to deal with such a critical case. Together with Lieutenant Guimaraes, we operated on Lieutenant Commander Braun, healing the extensive and near-fatal injuries he had received. I was amazed to realise that even though I had not performed that kind of surgery in several years, the gestures and procedures came back to me quite quickly. But even the most skilled surgeon would not have been able to finish the treatment in one or two hours. The Lieutenant Commander’s injuries were so severe that it needed the better part of a day, not to mention several complications during which we almost lost him.
Nevertheless, despite it utterly disrupting my planning for that day and even though it may sound heartless, I enjoyed performing the surgery. There was no diplomacy involved, no weighing ten different sides before a decision can be made, no pesky disagreements, no reports to be read. There was just the surgery, the precise suturing of the wounds, the partial replacing of organs, the bip of the life support system, the quiet efficiency of the surgeon’s team. Ie, there was the adrenaline rush when we almost lost him, but even that was, in retrospect, enjoyable. The results – or lack thereof – were immediate and I finally felt that I was achieving something again, something tangible.
Oh, I do like the command dais and I have been hoping for and working to be in that seat for years now. And while command over the Voyager is still not what I have dreamed of, it /is/ command. Still… sometimes I do miss the medical bay. Maybe I should volunteer some of my off duty time and work a few hours per tenday in the medical bay. Of course, the Theirrn will protest again, saying that I already work too much, but right now, I could not care less.
Stardate 20101017.0445
It is almost 5 am ship time and instead of sleeping I am sitting here, trying to get the staff meeting out of my mind so I can finally find some rest. It should not be that difficult. It was just another staff meeting. More or less. The fault lies probably with me. Maybe, instead of suggesting a change, I should simply decree it. I am the ship’s commander, after all. It is written nowhere that decisions have to be taken by vote or consensus. A ship’s command structure is not a democracy. Yet, in an effort to hear out the opinions of my staff, I decided to open up a discussion. That was a mistake, yet there were no real surprises.
Dhat, that is not exactly correct. I was surprised at the Starfleet officers’ persistence against corporal punishment and I find that I cannot understand their reasoning. Maybe they thought that allowing that kind of disciplinary action would be an invitation for random abuse or that this would be the only kind of punishment possible from then on. But that is of course ridiculous. It would merely open up the range of acceptable disciplinary measures to include the physical aspect. The decision what kind of punishment is in order would never be taken on a whim and would depend on the offense.
Maybe it is impossible for me to understand their way of thinking.
I have witnessed, experienced, ordered and issued corporal punishment myself.
In every single case, it was effective.
In every single case, it was justified.
Could these cases have been solved in a different manner?
Maybe.
Almost ten years later, I still remember everything.
The white gloves.
The sword.
The words.
The shock.
The shame.
The sweet, caring tone when she draped her uniform tunic around me and sent me back to my quarters to rest.
I learned from the experience.
It never happened again.
Would it have been the same had I merely received a mark in my record?
Dhat.
I would have resumed what I had done. Because the worst that could have happened had this been decided under Starfleet regulations would have been a dishonourable discharge. In the Federation, this would not have prevented me from living my life as I wanted. In complete disregard of everything the Federation may stand for.
Maybe this works for them. But they do not know what real duty is. Else they would not try to threaten me with their resignation. Their resignation! As if one could simply walk out on one’s duty because one may not agree with everything that happens!
Dhat, I will indeed never understand them.
Duty is life.
If I fail in that duty, I need to be punished so that it will never happen again.
Even if that means execution or, worse, exile.