Personal Log, Stardate: 40805.7

Posted on 06 Jun 2020 @ 5:58pm by Lieutenant JG John Church
Edited on 07 Jun 2020 @ 7:54am

|| Personal Log, Lieutenant JG Church, Assistant Chief of Security, Federation Starship Boston ||

Well, here I am. After that eternity on Starbase 173, I was starting to think I’d never leave the place...

The transfer process to the Boston didn’t take as long as I thought it would, but I’m not complaining. Apparently the command staff jumped at the chance to have an officer on board with experience dealing with the Romulans. I can’t say I blame them, looking at recent events.
After reporting for duty upon arrival and meeting the senior staff, I was politely shown to my quarters to get settled in. I took the liberty of reading up on the crew manifest and mission logs before coming aboard... the ship itself everything you’d expect from the file...

John casts his eyes around the cabin, inspecting the design as if it might reveal some secret about the ship, and takes a deep breath.

... But I get the feeling she goes a bit beyond ‘expected’. Coffee; white, unsweetened.

There is a brief pause, and the sound of a replicator in action. John makes his way to the desk set along one wall and sits at the console there, sipping the previously non-existent coffee. An LCARS beep is heard and the crew manifest appears on the screen and begins automatically scrolling, with several names highlighted.

It’s too early to tell, but the crew I’ve met so far all seem pleasant enough. There are certainly a few unconventional characters aboard, but nothing that deviates from their records as yet. No surprises. Computer, stop scrolling. Display security file on Ensign Qi’nii, medical technician.

A mechanised chirp of affirmation, and another pause as he reads the file.

This Aislyni Ensign in medical, though. From what I’ve read, she’s shown remarkable bravery in action. I’ve never met a member of her species, but their physiology is... fascinating. Computer, display security department manifest.

Another chirp from the computer. John rubs at his beard for a few moments while appraising the file he’s already seen a dozen or more times en route to the Boston. He leans back in the chair, clasping his hands behind his head.

I’m keen to get to know the people I’m now responsible for over the coming weeks and months. I don’t relish the idea of having to be disciplinarian if necessary, but it is what it is. That’s tomorrow’s problem. I understand I’ll be briefed fully on the current mission status first thing.
This Piraktan... situation is certainly a delicate one. I don’t envy the Captain’s position one bit.

With his eyes still on the screen, John reaches for the coffee only to grimace and curse in disgust when he discovers it’s started to go cold.

Computer, end log entry.