PERSONAL - FOR TRANSMISSION TO TEMZIA PRIL (AYA'LIEH DISTRICT, VRANS, TRILL)
Posted on 01 Aug 2021 @ 8:40am by Lieutenant JG Rozhal Pril
“Roz - pass me the ocean purple, would you?”
Temzia turned to her daughter and simply smiled. She had never shown any signs of taking after her mother and pursuing the creative arts. Nevertheless, Rozhal enjoyed the calm of sitting with her mother as she painted. Often, she would bring her schoolwork with her and the two of them would sit for hours working on their respective tasks. This night was not one of those times, however.
“Sorry mother,” she mumbled, searching the bag of oils for the correct colour, before passing it to Temzia. Having supplied her mother with the shade necessary to continue, Roz leant back on the grass carpeting the hillside and gazed up at the stars, just beginning to blink into view through the dusky sky. The young Trill went through all the constellations she could pick out in her head: Her favourite, Sho’zariya – the eagle of the glaciers – was just poking his head above the mountains on the other side of the bay. Of course, Roz knew that the inimitable features of Sho’zariya were nothing more than controlled explosions of hydrogen and helium burning in some distant part of the galaxy, most likely with no inhabitable planets orbiting them and no signs of civilisation for lightyears around. Still, the 17-year-old couldn’t help but imagine that one day, she might be able meet a people whose entire world was lit by the gaze of the ice eagle. Perhaps someone way out there was staring back, wondering the same of Trill.
Her mother broke the silence once more, seemingly having read her mind:
“Have you thought about what Isrin said? Starfleet isn’t anything to be ashamed of. The Science Ministry may do their best to make it sound like nothing more than a militaristic side-show, but they’re wrong. Starfleet works day and night, not only to keep the peace, but also to push the boundaries of our understanding of the universe. You’ve got the skill, Roz, and the Ministry are fools for not taking you on. If it’s what you want, you have your parents’ complete support…”
Temzia trailed off. A speech may not have been in order considering her daughter’s frame of mind. Truthfully, Roz’s mind was already made up. Her application to join the Ministry of Science’s research department hadn’t been successful, and her backup was indeed Starfleet.
“I already drafted my application letter,” Roz stated firmly, her eyes drifting down from the heavens and focussing instead on the ground stretching out in front of them both. She sighed:
“It’s just – you know how I feel – I really don’t like the idea of having to wear a phaser. Even the prospect of being on a ship armed with photon torpedoes that may well be used to end others’ lives is, quite frankly, upsetting. How could I be of use to an organisation which, despite all the good it does, is effectively the military arm of the Federation? It just feels so… off.”
Roz’s mother put down her brushes and leant over to hug her daughter:
“Roz, darling. You forget: That’s exactly why we need people like you up there. To keep it on the right path. To use their brains to solve problems, rather than their fists. To represent people like me and your father as our ambassadors to the stars.”
“It would be nice to meet Sho’zariya in person one day, wouldn’t it.”
Rozhal returned the hug.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PERSONAL - FOR TRANSMISSION TO TEMZIA PRIL (AYA'LIEH DISTRICT, VRANS, TRILL)
Dear Mother,
I’m so confused. It’s not that this is the first morally dubious thing we’ve ever encountered on this ship. Yet something about the current situation is really unsettling. I can’t tell you too much for security reasons, but needless to say, my trust in Starfleet is not as firm as it has been. Don’t get me wrong: Captain Demarcus is a role model for us all. I was equally in awe of Lieutenant T’Char’s intervention earlier. To delay a disaster with simple words is just incredible, and I desperately hope that one day I have enough confidence, experience and wisdom to pull something like that out of the bag. The problem lies not with my crew, but with the organisation itself. Command has honestly been useless on this one. They have had so many opportunities to help us, yet here we are: Alone, and with very little in the way of orders or advice. On an issue with such potentially huge repercussions, they have completely failed us.
I’m sorry. It would be so much easier if I were able to give you the full low-down. It’s a good job this is a personal letter though – I do feel a lot freer writing to you than I do recording this sort of stuff in my official log.
I miss home. I miss you and dad, and Jaed and Faro. I miss the fresh air and sunshine in the mountains. I put on a brave face when on-duty and with my friends and fellow officers, but I am exhausted. As soon as I get the opportunity I’m going to take some leave and come home to visit. I might actually be allowed to explain all this properly by then. Hopefully that won’t be too far in the future.
Sorry this one is so short. It’s been chaos here and I’m dying to get a good night’s sleep. I'll write again next week.
Love you.
Roz
