10-11-2025, 05:35 PM
== During the ship's travel to Wairara ==
Personal log, en route to the Wairara System. We’ve been at warp for a few hours now, and the hum’s starting to feel like background music. It’s weird how quickly you can get used to that sound. Feels like it’s syncing with my heartbeat. Maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe it means I’m settling in.
First deployment. First real assignment. The words still sound big, even saying them out loud. I keep brushing my fingers over the single black pip on my collar just to remind myself it’s really there. I guess that’s silly, but… I earned it. Every hour, every drill, every stumble—it led to this.
Everything’s squared away. Phaser checks out, locker’s organized—probably too organized—and the duty roster’s been memorized twice over. But still, I keep running through it all again. Guess that’s nerves pretending to be preparation. There’s a difference between being ready and being sure, and right now I’m feeling one more than the other.
T’Varen would tell me to breathe and let go of what I can’t control. She’s probably sitting somewhere on her new ship right now, meditating like it’s second nature. I’m over here talking to a recorder. Figures. Still… she’s right. I can almost hear her saying, “Clarity through discipline.” Maybe I should try that sometime.
Lieutenant Commander Torres’s words have been bouncing around in my head since graduation: Security protects people, not corridors. It’s simple, but it hits deep. That’s what I want to be good at—protecting the people. Not just standing guard, not just checking boxes. Actually being someone they can count on.
Short-term plan stays the same: be early, be prepared, be useful. Ask good questions. Don’t overcompensate. I’ve done enough of that already. Just because I’m the shortest one in the room doesn’t mean I need to be the loudest. Low center of gravity, fast hands, faster thinking—that’s my edge. Might as well own it.
Haven’t met everyone yet. I’ve seen faces in the corridors, shared a few nods, but that’s about it. Feels like the calm before the storm—quiet, routine, people finding their rhythm. I’ll learn the names soon enough. Learn the pace. Figure out how to fit in without tripping over my own boots.
Also… coffee on Deck Two is better than Deck Three. Not sure who’s programming those replicators differently, but they deserve a commendation. Priorities, right?
Anyway… that’s enough for now. I’ll take another walk around before lights-down, get a feel for the ship, maybe clear my head. First impressions matter, even if nobody’s watching.
One watch at a time. One good decision at a time. Ending log.
Personal log, en route to the Wairara System. We’ve been at warp for a few hours now, and the hum’s starting to feel like background music. It’s weird how quickly you can get used to that sound. Feels like it’s syncing with my heartbeat. Maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe it means I’m settling in.
First deployment. First real assignment. The words still sound big, even saying them out loud. I keep brushing my fingers over the single black pip on my collar just to remind myself it’s really there. I guess that’s silly, but… I earned it. Every hour, every drill, every stumble—it led to this.
Everything’s squared away. Phaser checks out, locker’s organized—probably too organized—and the duty roster’s been memorized twice over. But still, I keep running through it all again. Guess that’s nerves pretending to be preparation. There’s a difference between being ready and being sure, and right now I’m feeling one more than the other.
T’Varen would tell me to breathe and let go of what I can’t control. She’s probably sitting somewhere on her new ship right now, meditating like it’s second nature. I’m over here talking to a recorder. Figures. Still… she’s right. I can almost hear her saying, “Clarity through discipline.” Maybe I should try that sometime.
Lieutenant Commander Torres’s words have been bouncing around in my head since graduation: Security protects people, not corridors. It’s simple, but it hits deep. That’s what I want to be good at—protecting the people. Not just standing guard, not just checking boxes. Actually being someone they can count on.
Short-term plan stays the same: be early, be prepared, be useful. Ask good questions. Don’t overcompensate. I’ve done enough of that already. Just because I’m the shortest one in the room doesn’t mean I need to be the loudest. Low center of gravity, fast hands, faster thinking—that’s my edge. Might as well own it.
Haven’t met everyone yet. I’ve seen faces in the corridors, shared a few nods, but that’s about it. Feels like the calm before the storm—quiet, routine, people finding their rhythm. I’ll learn the names soon enough. Learn the pace. Figure out how to fit in without tripping over my own boots.
Also… coffee on Deck Two is better than Deck Three. Not sure who’s programming those replicators differently, but they deserve a commendation. Priorities, right?
Anyway… that’s enough for now. I’ll take another walk around before lights-down, get a feel for the ship, maybe clear my head. First impressions matter, even if nobody’s watching.
One watch at a time. One good decision at a time. Ending log.