Wing Commander's Personal Log 1
Posted on Sun Apr 30th, 2023 @ 4:12am by Lieutenant Kurt "Berlin" Vogel
Mission:
MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: LT Vogel Personal Quarters
587 words - 1.2 OF Standard Post Measure
Personal Log: Stardate 72109.8.
I have begun settling in to comfortable routine aboard the Elysium. My first impressions of the vessel have been almost universally positive. My only complaint is that the relative lax discipline makes my eye twicth, but I so far have not come across as a tyrannical martinet with either my subordinates or my peers.
The skipper....
Kurt paused in thought for a minute, looking for the right words.
....Is a complicated animal. Beautiful, articulate, regal in bearing. That last one was not a coincidence. I found out through scuttlebutt* that she is from a royal house on her home planet. I wonder...does this mean that its more protocolically correct to refer to her as "your highness" or whatever her term of address is?
"Computer: remind me to check starfleet protocol manuals on royal forms of address for serving personnel."
"Reminder saved." the computer's singsong voice responded.
Anyway, there's the XO, Captain Taylor. A good man. A pilot, like myself. I'd kill to know he got such a cool callsign as 'Reaper'. Ive never heard of someone given such a cool nickname, which means he must be a Bonafide badass indeed, because if he had picked that name for himself and it was found out, the callsign that his fellow pilots would have given him would be merciless.
Regardless, I trust him.
My fellow Wing Commanders are a mixed bag. Some are shyer than others, and some are bombastic. And then there is Leftenant Commander Vaii. She is...hard to read. On the one hand, we exchanged callsigns, usually a sign of trust and comradery among pilots. On the other, she has barely spoken more than three words to me since I got here. She might be my equal in the task organization, but she I think it best to treat her with kid gloves for now.
The Doctor? The reptile....
"Computer: delete last sentence."
The computer chimed obediently. Kurt felt a sting of guilt at the last thought, and shoved it aside.
The Gorn doctor, whose name I cannot even try to pronounce? He gives me the creeps. All those teeth...and when he smiles, its like he is thinking of me as a meal. The fact that Im well aware that these feelings are illogical and goes against the training Starfleet gives us just makes things worse. Not only do I feel revulsion, but guilt at that very feeling.
He is a very competent medical professional, however.
Has anyone noticed that the entire crew seems to be made of models. Well, the humanoid ones anyway. How does that happen? Everywhere I turn, Im greeted by one lovely visage after the next, and its all I can do not to blush and fluster.
Especially the Andorian, Lieutenant JG Nerinath zh'Rhilror. Good God. The women looks my way I can barely form words. Perhaps one of these days I shall gather the courage to ask her to lunch or something innocuous.
Regardless, my days are kept busy and eventful, and it seems that I have the respect of my subordinates, although I can tell a few are skeptical of my having no combat colors to my wings.**
Anyway, back to it. Vogel out.
"Computer, please translate the entirety of this message into German and save."
* Scuttelbutt - Naval slang: rumor mill
**Starfleet pilots wings are bronze colored if the wearer has not seen combat. Silver if they have participated in combat with other fighters, and gold if they have seen combat with capital ships.
