Trials by Fire

[C.T. Caine 0]

Chief Security Officer's personal log...

Stardate 60910 mark 7.

 

The Soltan lines have shifted again. Lieutenant Messner has run a last diagnostic on the tactical systems, all of which check out.

 

And that's it, really. There's nothing else to report.

 

These are the dark hours of war. Nothing to do but sleep. The order is out to rest, and rest hard, while we still can, though I doubt all of us will do so. When all you can do is sleep, it suddenly becomes a very hard thing to do, in my experience.

 

And some of them are awfully young. Awfully young. Admittedly, I'm starting to get so I can legally use the title "Older Than God," but still...they're young, many of 'em. And scared, some of 'em. Probably wondering how the hell they got here. The Fleet's lost a lot -- there's no longer any grace period out of the academy, especially not for us in the gold shirts.

 

We go where the war is. Period.

 

That's the first lesson you learn that they don't teach you in the academy. A security officer is not there for the glory, a gunner is not there to explore. We exist to go where the danger is and throw our bodies over it, smother it out.

 

It's a hard lesson, but I firmly believe that the luckiest ones are the ones who are smacked in the face with it. When you know it from the beginning, you can move on. It simplifies things. I was scared at Chin'toka, and Cardassia. I won't deny it. I was young.

 

But I'm not scared now. I've moved on. These young'ns will move on too. We all have our trial by fire, sooner or later.

 

This is theirs, and together we will burn the Soltans to the ground.