Personal Log: Malcolm Adeyemi

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

I had an interaction recently with my department head with which I was not thrilled. I guess this old country boy doesn't need to be with his woman to say the wrong thing the wrong way.

I was unaware that Ensign Xoran is a Trill. I have had little interaction with the group as a whole and her in particular. She seemed shock and offended. I did not intend to offend, but she refused to listen. So be it.

It sounds crazy to some people but there are parts of the universe where aliens are not particularly present. Honest. Starfleet Basic training was the first time I rubbed elbows with aliens extensively. Where I come from it's just not an issue as there are few aliens back in Lycoming, PA.

As I believe I explained in a former log entry my homeland is a place that prides itself on its clannish nature. Things that are on the whole stamped out elsewhere are still quite prevalent where I come from. Maybe not so openly as it used to be, but even 400 years of prosperity cannot heal old wounds or stop the old ways.

Even though I do not ascribe to any of the negative aspects of this homegrown parochialism I do take pride in the overall concept. There was a time when we weren't so homogenized and peaceful. Sterile, almost. I do not yearn for the past or more difficult times but it still has to be said. Maybe I should add this to the list of things I say whenever someone asks me why I joined Starfleet...

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

Lieutenant Junior Grade Juan Delatorre was a sipper, I had noticed. A delicate eater and a man who didn't upend his drinks. He had long fingered pianist's hands, an upturned nose perfect for looking down on those who didn't graduate from the Academy. His medical records were neat and prim like the rest of him. Nothing funny or life threatening to giggle over. If I hadn't been being coerced to kill him all this may have led me to do it anyway.

For days I'd been without sleep, quiet, morose. It didn't take a nurse to realize I was stressed. Well, I don't believe there actually was a word for how I was truly feeling. Some combination of stress and mortal terror.

I was sitting in the mess, a mass of meat and vegetables congealing and cooling in front of me. I could take no pleasure in food or the convivial conversation bubbling around me. I could only stare at the table and glance up at Delatorre as he sipped tea and did some work. Punctilious of him but still annoying.

There was a PADD at my elbow with a single message on it. "Do it. You're being watched." What a pep talk! The message was coded to delete permanently on a short time-lapse so it's not as if I could show it to anyone.

Besides his insomnia Delatorre is healthy. Not fit, mind you; not many blueshirts are. But hale enough.

I believe I've mentioned before that it tickles me in this modern age that some things are still so primitive. One of them is the human body. Four hundred years of prosperity and health, and yet we are still born into his world with every flaw imaginable. Congenital defects. Hair lips. Babies born missing, feet, arms, legs. A heart that beats too fast or off rhythm. Besides a few minor diseases and injuries people come into this universe with every flaw they did a thousand years ago, more or less.

Delatorre has allergies.

Allergens are a broad category for anything that makes the body react negatively. It has to be an environmental, naturally occurring factor; a phaser wound is not an allergy, no matter what some lunk from security is quipping about.

The good news is that allergies are 100% preventable. As long as a man avoids whatever it is that he is allergic to he will be fine.

With a heavy heart, I wordlessly pushed my untouched plate toward a server in the mess. The CPO would have his accident, all right. So would Delatorre, who had obeyed the universal law of allergies so far.

I stood and slithered out of the mess, feeling utterly defeated and lost.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

It seems like I get to say I told you so quite a lot in Starfleet. but I never like to do so. Another one of those instances has just happened.

The containment system has failed on the Gettysburg and the ship is flooded with dangerous diethylamine. In fact, Kirok has sent a fellow blueshirt named Brooks and I to investigate. Joy...

One thing that must be noted, medically speaking. There's not a whole lot you can say to a man who is tripping on LSD that will make him physically snap out of it. The best that can be done is to soothe him through it.

=/\=Computer, make sure that last part is recorded for posterity.

=/\=Affirmative.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

There are times when even a proud father like myself will doubt himself. It's only natural. Before children a man is more free to pursue his interests. But after becoming a father the tasks he needs to do triples and the time to do them shrinks.

Bachelors like to think of themselves as more free and I suppose in a way it's true. I can imagine that that lifestyle can get very lonely, however. In my home (such as it is) there is always something to do and someone there. With this comes noise, disgusting messes and fighting, but it is definitely all worth it.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=Personal log=

When I entered the auxiliary shuttle bay that night it was utterly quiet. It was eerie and more off putting than the gluttonous violence that had taken place there before.

In the center of the cargo area stood the CPO. He was ramrod straight as if standing at attention.

"What's this?" I asked him as I approached, taking pains to stay a respectable distance away.

"I had a feeling you'd come. I broke a little  commandment and made arrangements for no party tonight. If you hadn't come I'd've found you." Came the answer in the now familiar brittle voice.

"What do you want?"

"I want to know that you've done your duty."

"You mean Delatorre?"

Even with only one eye the cPO managed to give me a snarky look. "Yes, I mean Delatorre. He's set to leave tomorrow morning. Your time is up."

"...do you want to see the body?" I asked timidly.

The CPO gave me an appraising glance, and chuckled. His voice was syrupy and broken at the same time. "Hell yeah I want to see the body. Good stuff, shipmate. Lead the way."

I walked with him out of the bay and started down the passageway. At 2330 hours they were pretty well deserted. A junior flight control officer did stop to ask the chief a question but a single lizard look sent the younger man scurrying off.

"Tell me how you did it," the chief prompted.

"He's got allergies."

"Allergies?"

"Yes."

"...well, how did you kill him?"

"You wanted him dead, why does it matter?"

The CPO glowered at me. We were standing by the entrance to the hydroponics bay. "Call it professional interest. Now tell me."

"Delatorre is...was a botanist. But plants were his number one allergy. He was deathly allergic to a Vulcan-human hybrid desert orchid."

The chief saw where I was going and chuckled. "Let me guess: you slipped one under his pillow?"

I sighed. "In the samples of the plants he brought from his ship. He got close to it, had an allergic reaction, a moment later he was gone. I worked the shipping manifest to look as if the plant came from the Heimdall, not here. It'll just be a tragic mistake, when they investigate it."

The CPO looked at me long. "Got to admit, that's a creative way to kill a man. You outdid yourself." He must have seen how morose I looked. "Don't be so down, shipmate. You know I wouldn't have had you do this if it wasn't completely necessary."

"Was it? Delatorre hadn't spoken up in the time he was here."

"He may have been waiting until he got back home, where he was more comfortable. Besides...I think you have a lot of talent and a great future. I wanted to see if you had it in you."

"Shall we?"

"Please do," the CPO answered, and entered the hydroponics bay with a spring in his step.

I didn't get to see the look on his face when the chief saw Lieutenant J.G. Juan Delatorre not sprawled out on the floor, dead, but in fact alive and upright and frankly appraising the man who wanted him killed. There were also a full squad of security officers in the bay, and admittedly those probably interested the chief more.

The security officers rushed the chief and piled onto him in a tide of grunts and locking arms. Even being so restrained by four men the CPO managed to knock one onto the ground with a head butt, of all things. One of the security men hit the held up man in the belly, and he promptly sagged.

Ensign Elizabeth Ollerenshaw stepped forward. As the ranking sec officer present she had stayed back from the brief but vicious fight to ensure the arrest was made. "=/\=Computer, end open channel. Save recording under security files, Ensign Elizabeth Ollerenshaw, security code Gulf Alpha Gulf." The chiefs confession recorded forever, she turned to the arrestee. "Chief Petty Officer Kovatch. You are hereby charged with conspiracy to commit murder, striking an officer and assault on fellow enlisted crewmembers. Take him to the brig."

As he was being hauled away the CPO twisted his head to lock his empty eye on me, his lips twisted in a baleful sneer. And then he was gone.

"You've done your duty and a greaÁ¢â,¬"" Ollerenshaw started.

I raised my hand. "Ma'am, I'd like to save the briefing for the trial, if it's all the same to you. I may be hanging on the gibbet right next to him."

"I sincerely doubt that," Delatorre had dulcet, clipped tones, an academic accent. "You may have participated in the chief's little soirees but in the end you followed the law."

"Unfortunately, sir, you are not the judge of that." I started to turn to leave and the bay door opened. "Thank you both, but I think it's time I start getting to bed earlier from now on..."

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

It seems as if a great deal has been transpiring lately, more than can be absorbed. In the midst of all this I seem to have forgotten that I am going to be a father soon. In three weeks we will be able to find out the sex of the baby.

I am hoping for a boy but my gut says girl. The decision we made to find out early is a bit controversial, according to some folks. But we like to be as prepared as possible, plus neither Laura nor I are noted for our patience.

As ever, my goal is to bring my family onboard with me so I can be there for the birth of my child.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=Personal log=

Some people allow their lives to be consumed by the wrong things. As fatherhood is once again rapidly approaching, I cannot help but think of just how backwards some people have it.

A man can't win in a war against himself, my father always said. I have not been exercising regularly lately. This is due to our recent mission but is also my nature. When Laura was first pregnant with Gerald I definitely packed on some sympathy pounds. This is natural and expected. In my mind, this is not the time for killing myself with calisthenics and a diatribe on myself. It is likely that we will not be having another child. Now is the time to enjoy life and to be reflective, but not to go overboard, of course.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

The war games are heating up. PO2 Sukal has chosen the saucer section and I the helm. It's kind of fun, seeing myself in that officer's uniform, even if it is only a holographic promotion.

I still have to wonder how we can possibly win, however. Sukal is skilled at what he does but Lieutenant Commander Kirok is third in command of the Gettysburg. He's also got the battle bridge and a more powerful vessel. I shall do my best.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

Sometimes it feels like there are only two ways out of Starfleet: kicked out or in a body bag. I don't mean to be so black and white about it, but lately it seems as if I facing more than my share of difficult choices in my career.

Mineralogist Crewman Dimitri Brooks and I have hit it off when it comes to this latest fiasco. He's a good man. I believe he's younger than me and I have a tendency to call such younglings "son' or "kid." But this scrappy scientist has proved his mettle many times over so far.

The containment failure took place in the main science lab. D.B. and I are loyal blueshirts and thus were doing our natural function and saving the lives of everyone onboard. Of course some lunks from security and a hangar crew were fighting each other. I was forced to strike another human being and Dimitri took another down. The guy took a punch directly in his facemask, which shattered. Comically, I had to lead him down to the atmospheric control room as he was now quite blind.

Once there we ran across the Jordan boy. Poor little guy. His dad is a PO in the science lab, I think. I told the kid to get into the nearest turbolift. God only knows how all this is affecting him...

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

It seems as if it has been forever and a day since the last time I saw the face of my son. I remember back home he would be gone for a day or two and I would be amaze at how much he had grown during that time. When I get home now it will seem as if he has grown up completely.

A man tends to forget how everything was once new. A child is born with no state of mind, blind to the ways of mankind. When they awaken and begin to learn it's all new.

Some very enlightened thinkers back on earth a few centuries ago postulated some staggering philosophical truths. A man's mind is always recording, compiling information, and storing it. Just like when he listens to the same song or practices a skill over and over it gets easier and his mind records less.

Athletes and soldiers often speak of the perception of time slowing down or speeding up. This isn't a figment of their imagination or poetic license, however. Their minds are simply so attuned to the task at hand that they can slow down their perception and react accordingly.

Right now my son's life must be moving very slow. His mind is still recording many new things for the first time. I am envious of him as most things in his life are brand new.

For me it's very different. 28 years of nonstop recording have rendered me nigh invulnerable to perceiving things. I zone out entire days of my life, even weeks or months with little different happening. This is both comforting and frightening.

I truly hope I can be there more for my son when I get back home. I want to be one of those things he is experiencing.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

The Gettysburg is finally free of the diethylamine. Thanks to some quick thinking on the part of blueshirts Dimitri Brooks and Luke Stafford, that is.  I don't recall security doing anything but thumping skulls and grunting.

All ingenuous levities aside, our situation is FUBAR. Half of the ship is suffering from chemical burn inhalations. The ship's counselor is also going to have a time sorting out all of the emotional trauma.

Almost makes me glad I'm up to my elbows in scarred alveoli.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

Sickbay is seeing a lot of traffic these days. At first we were only treating the chemical burns and the inhalations. But every kind of injury can and did take place during a ship wide panic.

Myself, I have lacerations to both palms from God knows what. There's also a large bruise on my sternum from that lunk trying to bear hug me from behind. Luckily, I proved I am all brains and brawn and fought him off.

I'm not sure why, but the more travail and trial I go through here makes the ship feel more like home. Does a man define his existence more through suffering or through happiness? It's the suffering that shapes us, my father used to say. I believe he was right. I did not fit in very well when I first got here. But our last foray into the unknown has truly made me feel more at home here. I'm seeing the same faces in the passageways of people who my colleagues in sickbay and I have had to help days before. It's, dare I say, a good, familiar feeling.

My thoughts and prayers still remain with my family, however. That will always be the one constant in my life.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

What is it with Starfleet and working a man to death? Today I pulled a twelve hour shift. And for what?

Most of the time, of course, I was cruising the Gettysburg computer for entertaining things to read. I suppose I am gifted in that I love to read so much that I can find anything written down enthralling. This includes technical jargon, whether it be medical or mechanical. In this way a man is always stimulated; my father always said boredom is for the unimaginative.

The rest of the day is consumed with the usual hustle and bustle. Riffraff finding ways to injure themselves or something infectious to spread around. Unimportant. No one comes in with anything new, or anything I can learn from.

I know I'm going to kick myself for saying this but I could use some action. I said this before the diethylamine fiasco previously. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut...?

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

The scuttlebutt in medical is we're headed to some lonely mining outpost. Here's the part where I say I'm looking forward to an uneventful mission. But I think I have learned how that goes by now.

Met Dimitri Brooks in the mess today for breakfast. Say what you will about Starfleet, but they always make sure a man has plenty of replicated food on hand.

DB is a solid guy.He's got a head on his shoulders and an edge of command to him that's unusual for someone so young. I say so young but he's only four short years younger than I. He's already a Senior Crewman and I expect he'll go far. He'll age fast, too. I know I have so far here. Only a short time ago it seemed as if I was just arriving on the Gettysburg. But now it feels like home, and like a home that feeling can be both comforting and unsettling at the same time.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

=/\=Personal log=/\=

The big news came today! We are having a girl!

Honestly, I could not be happier. A lot of conflicting emotions were rippling around when I got the news. I love my son and will always. However, now that he'll have a little sister our family will be symmetrical. A lot of people are going on, very nicely mind you, about how we'll have a "perfect" family. I don't know what that is but it's good to hear all the same.

I have decided to rededicate myself to fitness and strength training ever since the news came out. I feel as if I may be sent to a Federation penal colony one day due to someone flirting with my little girl. A man has to have muscles in prison. Therefore I booked some holodeck time yesterday and lucked out. I took a 45 minute walk on the old trail in my hometown. I've also gone back to doing random pushups, chin ups, and bodyweight squats wherever feasible here on the ship.

A man protects his family, my father always said. And I will be ready to do so.