Personal Log: One Month

[Kansas 0]

= = = = Executive Officers Personal Log = = = =

= = = = Commander Kansas JoNs = = = =

= = = = Encryption Level 12 JoNs ****646**** Niner = = = =

= = = = Enter/Run/Access Recording Program = = = =

 

Thursday October 1 12:00 Hours: I observed a joint Security and Marine combat drill this morning. I noticed that Crewman Decatur now sports a blackened eye, and scarring that will be permanent along his cheek and jaw. The injuries I assume are from his department Lieutenant, C.T. Caine, in retribution for his botched assassination attempt against myself. I do understand the need for discipline, especially considering the kid embarrassed her as well as the entire Security department, but I can’t say I agree with the permanent scarring as a future deterrent.

 

Friday October 2 16:00 Hours: Tri-quarterly crew physicals continue. Our new doctor, Trenral, performs her duties quickly and efficiently if a bit uncomfortable for the crew. I’m still unable to discern any motivations -- if any -- or loyalties from my fellow countrywoman. The same species doesn’t always mean the best of friends.

 

Sunday October 4 14:00 Hours: We have finished our honor guard duties here at colony world LB 4J, also known as Delta Dragonis Four. Our crew and officers provided protection -- as well as looking pretty, so to speak -- as the new de facto governor was installed. New orders are expected to be incoming any day now. Dear gods, I hope so, ‘cause this planet is like watching paint dry.

 

Tuesday October 6 09:00 Hours: The Agincourt and her crew have been diverted to the Larentia systems to oversee the patrol patterns of the sectors. Apparently, the civilian drug trade is spiraling out of control, and the local authorities are completely overwhelmed. I have known of some of my distant family clan members as well as clan acquaintances to work their trade within the Larentia sectors, and at this point I am hoping that none of them happen to be involved in this upsurge of the drug trade.

 

Monday, October 12 12:00 Hours: The ‘Court has entered into standard vector orbit above the colony planet of New Halifax. We will be taking on new personnel, supplies, and dilithium fuel stores. We continue to investigate into the rampant civilian drug trade with no leads as to the source material or any locally operating couriers that distribute the product.

 

Wednesday, October 14 20:00 Hours: I must admit, I am becoming concerned regarding the launch of this secondary sector patrol mission. A distant blood relative of mine, a reprobate Cat by the name of Jumper Honor-Scar has long operated within the confines of the Larentia territories and sectors and backwater colony worlds. My immediate family and I have never agreed with the types of jobs that she has taken over the years, everything from slavery to gun running to drug running…I guess you might say that she is the black sheep of the family as the Humans say. I have my own suspicions that while Honor-Scar is not a prime drug power in these sectors, I’d bet even credits that she is probably being employed as one of the couriers of the drug product. I do not know of her current whereabouts, and I also contacted my family, and they are unaware of her current location as well…not that I could do anything…legally about it anyway.

 

Thursday, October 15 10:00 Hours: The ongoing situation with Lieutenant Caine remains unchanged. The working relationship between myself and the half-Vulcan woman remains frosty with a chance of Hell freezing over. We continue to work together per our duties and direct orders from Colonel Harper. But the undercurrent of tension is very, ah, noticeable, such as the minor incident in this morning’s briefing meeting with the department heads and shift leads. And I have no doubt that the two of us were in violation of Harper’s “no public display” decree judging by the silent steel liquid looks that she was winging at her two officers in question.

 

Monday, October 18 12:00 Hours: I dealt with a couple of disciplinary issues personally today. A senior officer of the lieutenant ranks who mishandled some equipment, and two junior level ensigns who have been repeatedly late to their respective duty postings due to their shared late night couplings.

 

Friday, October 23 23:00 Hours: Two day layover at Deep Space Station Archer, shore leave has been granted to the crew. End of day one, no fatalities or brig time recorded among the crew. Today was a good day.

 

Wednesday, October 28 22:30 Hours: Completing my rounds for this evening, and came upon three junior enlisted Damage Control officers shooting dice in the main aft nacelle port maintenance access way. I startled them, and they startled me, but we did manage to not shoot each other. Paranoia keeps you alive in this Fleet, but I’m not saying that it is the healthiest outlook to have on life. Since gambling is not against regulations per se, and I am not of the extreme regulations stripe of First Officer, I let the incident go. I was invited to play and in the process I lost some credits, gained some credits, and gained some entry level eyes and ears for the Engineering department, a ships department due for some of my inside recon retainers. A win win situation all told this evening.

 

Saturday, October 31 13:00 Hours: The Humans have this tradition called Hallowe’en. In ancient times, this holiday involved spirits walking the Earth for one night out of the calendar year, free to walk among the living. As the years and decades passed, and the Humans moved farther away from the ancient beliefs and superstitions, the night of Hallowe’en de-evolved into celebrations, parties, and children going from domicile to domicile collecting candy from those that offered the treats. I find the whole concept very quaint and invigorating. I have been invited to a small gathering of diehards from various departments celebrating the now even more ancient and waning tradition. While I am by nature suspicious of the invitation, and wondering if it is merely a ruse to corner me or take me out, there is also no greater compliment to a senior officer then being invited to a lower decks party. My personal guard, Petty Officer Darjhan has agreed to accompany me to the gathering, although I am a bit concerned because he mentioned to me, and I quote “Excellent, a Hallowe’en party. Now I can break out my leopard thong that I wore to an Academy party a few years ago and go as a man of the jungle,” unquote. The gods help me.

 

…I don’t think I want to know…let alone scrubbing that mental image from my brain…

 

Saturday, October 31 23:30 Hours: <Supplemental Recording> The Hallowe’en party, how do you say, rocked out. Mister Darjhan did indeed wear the leopard thong thing complete with matching headband and bone necklace and kept referring to himself as Darjhan of the Jungle for most of the night.

 

The punch was spiked, and I can’t feel my paws, so I am going to take an anti-inebr…an anti-inebraaa…an anti-inebrrrr…a pill. I’m going to take a pill to counteract the hangover effects and then pass out for the night.

 

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