Personal Log - T'Ra Jones

Started by T'Ra Jones, January 27, 2017, 11:03:49 PM

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T'Ra Jones

=/\=Personal Log=/\=
Stardate: 72076.5

It is an odd how often conflicting emotions come together: anguish and jubilation, unease and faith, familiarity and alienation... since coming aboard, I have had more time to reflect on the innumerable dualities that life has to offer, especially those that have brought me to where I am now, aboard a ship instead of seated behind an admiral's desk.
My path to the admiralty was not the most conventional, resulting more from necessity than personal ambition. Situations arose, and I felt obliged to step forward. "Some are born great, while others have greatness thrust upon them," Evan tells me. He is a fountain of knowledge that even a Vulcan should be glad to draw from, always quoting some old human adage or making a quip in response to just about everything.

But being aboard the Valour, being on a ship again, brought back to life a sense of purpose that I had not felt in quite some time, as well as the desire to don a teal uniform once more. When I finally returned to my proper timeline, Evan was there, waiting. He could sense that something had changed within me, and when I requested reassignment to the USS Shran, to work under Kirok, an old Vulcan acquaintance, Evan demanded to come too.

I truly value the easy friendship that has grown between us, one that started in our early academy days, a friendship that has deepened especially in the last couple years. He has learned to read me so well, knowing my thoughts better than perhaps even a Vulcan could, just from looking at my face. Many of my other human companions would see nothing more than a blank Vulcan mask, but what he sees there, I can hardly comprehend but cannot even begin to explain. This I do know, few words are needed between us.

But he is still a little sour with me, because of my recent encounter with the borg, feeling that he should have been there by my side, not because he's one to leap into danger but moreso because of the danger I had been put in myself. He was powerless to do anything to save me from a peril he didn't know anything about until it was long over and done. He knows logically there was no time for me to tell him before I was whisked away, but still, despite this, he is angry. And I do not blame him.

Then to have that man, a complete stranger waltz into my rooms, the second in only a matter of days claiming to come from the future... The proclamations he made of our future were astonishing if a little unsettling, especially give his veiled threats against Evan's life should I not comply. I can hardly bear to think... I feel torn between my Human and Vulcan heritage, which has before now given me little grief. What will this mission bring? I do not know, but I know it will test us, possibly pushing us further past our limits than ever before.
=/\=End Log=/\=



Ich lache, weil es ein Loch in mir gibt.
-Evan Buehler

T'Ra Jones

=/\=Personal Log=/\=
Startdate: 72164.1

In spite of the sinister shadow looming over our new ship and her fate, the Shran's first mission began relatively well. We knew we were up against something dire, though it was somewhat alarming to realize just how many of the crew this stranger had approached. This became apparent to me after I met with Kirok to express my concerns about the man we would later come to know as Luther Sloan.

This malevolent presence was not restricted to any one part of the crew, seeming to reach into every department as if he were trying to cover all his bases. Sevoc, one of the lieutenants within my department and a fellow Vulcan hybrid, had been approached as well. It seemed Sloan wished for the shields to be lowered so that could beam aboard to prepare a surprise party for the good admiral. Against his own knowledge and will, Sevoc was made accomplice to this act but I do not blame him for it. Sloan bares all the responsibility alone. No one else.

Sloan managed to beam aboard before we could raise the shields again, and mass hysteria shortly ensued. Escape pods were mistakenly dispatched when a false evacuation order sounded, but as Sevoc had collapsed on the bridge, we were in Sickbay, though perhaps that was not the best place to be.

When the saucer was forced into separation, it placed such strain on the ship that caused the ceiling in Sickbay to rupture, trapping us inside. The only way out was through the jefferies tubes, and I was loathe to take that route, but there was no other option remaining to us. Only Evan knew the extent of my anxiety, though I fear my Vulcan mask may have wavered for one brief moment, possibly revealing this to the crew. Rank dictated that I lead the way, and so I did, forcing myself to climb into the narrow enclosure, swallowing the bile that had begun to rise up in my throat. Yet somehow, in the face of it all, we pushed through and things are beginning to settle down.
****
Evan has fallen asleep in my chair again in one of his late night vigils trying to ward off the demons that have returned to haunt my sleep. Recent events have re-opened old wounds, and I am once again facing ghosts I had finally begun to put behind me. The memories are now years old, yet they feel just as sharp as if it had all happened yesterday. And despite the vast distance in space and time, crawling through the jefferies tubes on the Shran, I had to remind myself that it was my comrades I heard crawling behind me and not the captors I had desperately been trying to flee back on that starbase.

This fear is not logical, but I cannot seem to shake myself of it. Evan is always there by my side through it all, always making some quip in an attempt to steal a smile from me. And though he was not personally present for the XO's inaugural speech to the crew, it did not take him long to learn the ship's motto and what the first letter of each word spells out. Evan will periodically yell "DUDE!" in such a way he sounds like a bellowing cow, which then gets him started on this inane German song about some ridiculous bovine.

He is truly incorrigible, and I truly love him for it. I cannot imagine my life without him, and it seems I will not have to. Evan has proposed, and I think I might just keep him.

=/\=End Log=/\=



Ich lache, weil es ein Loch in mir gibt.
-Evan Buehler

T'Ra Jones

=/\=Personal Log=/\=
Stardate: 72201.9

I'm not usually one to make a log halfway through the month, but a number of things have happened in the past few days that I find necessary to set straight in my head.

It seems I am to be on my third ship in as many months. I am to be Second Officer and Chief of Science for a new excelsior starship. Evan laughed when he heard this. "You're Sooooooo....." And he began humming the scale. Logically that makes him LA, I countered. "LA?" he asked. LÁƒ¤cherlicher Arzt.

Despite this jovial aspect, it still remains that I will be leaving a ship I have grown used to these past couple months. It has been an honor to serve under my old friend and fellow Vulcan. But I find I will also miss a certain other hybrid. I have come to know Servoc fairly well, not only because of our second mind meld. There is an easy rhythm between us as we work, and I feel all the more relieved that I will be leaving the department in good hands.

And I have also received a communique from my mother, who I have not heard from since before my last transfer, to notify me that she had remarried. A short simple message and very matter of fact. It listed only the time, place, and name of my new step-father. Sovik. A proper name for a proper Vulcan. Evidently my mother had spent more time than deemed socially acceptable mourning the loss of a human mate. This is not what bothers me but more so that she did not notify me or my brother before the fact. We are her children and she owes us at least that much, but I'm not sure she has even considered Elvin (my half brother from my father's first wife) her son since my father's death five years ago. I had not thought about it before, but my mother's recent marriage and my own growing nearer have reminded my of the depressing fact that my father will not be present to give me away.

As of yet, I have not responded to my mother's message, and I am hesitant to do so. I just want her to be happy for me, for the grandchildren that will surely be in her future. But given that she pushed for my betrothal at the age of seven as is standard for children in our culture, I am not certain she will approve in my choice of a human for my mate.

I think Evan senses my restlessness. And in an attempt to make me smile, he is putting on what he claims to be "our song".



Ich lache, weil es ein Loch in mir gibt.
-Evan Buehler

T'Ra Jones

#3

=/\=Personal Log=/\=
Startdate: 72247.7

Sometimes I wonder if we will ever be completely rid of Sloan or the shadowy organization of Section 31. Because of this, Evan questions why I trust Kirok so implicitly, when danger seems to follow where he goes. I have served with Kirok for so long, and have valued his friendship during that time. It is more than just that we are both hybrids, Vulcans, governed by a certain sense of logic from which we cannot vary. But I also feel that we are both a little at odds with ourselves, unsure of how we fit into the grand fabric of the universe. I am not sure Evan understands this, or what he owes Kirok's part in my life.

And it seems we are to remain aboard the Shran, where I assume the position of second officer here instead of the new ship Challenger. I am grateful to stay on a shp I have begun to become familiar with under a commanding officer I know well. Evan grumbles about how they can't seem to make up their minds, though in truth I believe he was really looking forward to getting away from this ship. Now it would be Sevoc take up a position on the new ship in my stead, which I can only hope is not the case as I have grown fond of working with this blue-skinned Vulcan.

In any case, Sevoc and I have engineered a special prank for the XO. Inevitably Hawke will sweat, and we have tampered with his uniforms in a way that it will cause the shirt to stick to his skin so that he will not be able to pull it off, something for which the XO has become known for. Evan has a remedy should the commander truly become desperate to remove his shirt.

Things are beginning to settle down a bit on the Shran, and sensors are nearly back to being fully functioning again. It would have been nice to have use of these when we were investigating the anomalous readings sent to us by Starbase Columbus, but thankfully the sensors on the shuttle were still operating at peak performance, allowing us to collect quite a bit of data and stimulate the opening of a borg transwarp conduit that apparently leads to the Delta quadrant.

It is such a mind-boggling discovery, which he will hopefully get to investigate further after concluding our delayed meeting with the Vice Admiral. Evan's reaction baffles me more. He was there waiting for us in the hangar bay when we returned, ready with a stern quip: "The borg could have killed you how many times now, and you think it's a great idea to go open up one of their transpwarp conduits?" He has since calmed down, but he still feels it spells doom. Only time will tell.

=/\=End Log=/\=



Ich lache, weil es ein Loch in mir gibt.
-Evan Buehler

T'Ra Jones

=/\=Personal Log=/\=
Startdate: 72331.1 (1 May)

The nightmares have begun to subside, no doubt thanks to Evan's constant and comforting presence. But of late he's either been crashing in sickbay or in his quarters, which are much closer to sickbay than mine. With all the excitement recently, a lot of the crew have been pulling double shifts to speed along the repair process. Even the Science Labs fell prey to this oppressive busy spell, yellow shirts pouring into every nook and cranny of the ship like buzzing bees.

It is hard to imagine that this was all for one man. Or should I say two men? I'm not sure any more. But we may at last be finished with the deplorable named Sloan. It seemed as if he had left us for a time, allowing us a moment of peace in which we pursued our investigation into the borg transwarp corridor. Though we were not without some pressure here, Admiral Casas being none too pleased at our delay for the "all important" rendezvous. Debris and chaos was all that greeted us upon reaching the appointed coordinates. This was only the beginning.

Sloan taunted us, taunted Kirok, who was clearly disturbed by the song being played. Evidently Evan recognized the tune, quietly singing along, and the look he received... suffice to say he's now convinced Kirok is a madman. Hawke certainly has his crazy streaks as well. His plan was essentially to have no plan. I'm still struggling to find the logic in that, though that has endeared him to Evan somewhat.

We split the ship, I taking the saucer section while Hawke commanded the Star Drive section. Evan was in the brig at this time with Kirok and the prisoner, all three subject to face the consequences of Hawke's actions. Thank God they returned safe and sound, nursing some wounds, but returned.

I almost feel more uncertain of myself, of everything, than before. Conwell is also gone, but before he left, he saw fit to impart some rather cryptic words of advice.

Quote from: Justin Conwell on May 01, 2017, 03:33:17 AM

[Temporal Observatory, 2395]

"Welcome Commander Hawke, Commander Jones, Lieutenant Stark, and Lieutenant Jaeger, to the Temporal Observatory." Justin spoke up before he was followed by his sister, Emily. "We couldn't let you all die or destroy the Shran because each of you are important in the future. For what reasons, we can't tell you but I will say you're all important. "Commander Jones, while you're a Vulcan, you are also half human. My advice to you is to accept both your heritage and don't shy away. When you embrace both, your destiny will truly begin." He replied before turning to Lieutenant Stark who was next on his list.

I can't fathom what could be so important about my role in the future, and I know Evan would chastise me were he to hear me say so. Sometimes I feel like I've lived a lifetime already. So much has happened, and I've seen so many things. That anything should top all this is beyond the limits of what I can imagine. Perhaps it is this lack of logic that distresses me so. And how can I reconcile my Vulcan and Human heritage when it feels like half of that has begun to fade away. I was once one of five Vulcans aboard the Shran, and one by one it has dwindled down to just me. Likewise, my relation with my mother remains strained, though I did finally send a reply to her communique, affording her the courtesy that she failed to give me, disclosing to her that I am to be married. Though the question of when has yet to be settled. Soon.

=/\=End Log=/\=



Ich lache, weil es ein Loch in mir gibt.
-Evan Buehler

T'Ra Jones

#5

=/\=Personal Log=/\=
Startdate: 72676.3

It has been quite some time since my last entry here, and as such, there is much to recount. Our troubles with Sloan seem to be a thing of the past, but the universe seems to have no intention of letting us rest any time soon. After our last confrontation with the man called Sloan, we encountered a race of telepathic aliens who put the crew of the Shran into a shared dream state to test our mettle and moral fiber. We were made to believe that we crash landed on a planet resembling Earth in its jurrasic years, velociraptor's included. I barely saw anything on the planet. Hawke and I were badly injured in the landing, and by the time we made it down from the saucer, Hawke had to support me. I could hardly walk, let alone focus on the scenery. I was able to make it just as far as the emergency camp, just to die in Evans arms. I felt little anxiety when faced with my own death, though perhaps this was because I was in a state of delirium due to the blood loss. While I felt next to nothing for a death that was not even real, I can still see the pain whenever the memory flickers across Evan's eyes.

After that, Evan decided he had waited long enough, and who was I to deny him? We were married at the end of June in a small ceremony on my home planet, Vulcan. My half brother Elvin stood in for our father, who sadly died before he could walk his daughter down the aisle. Mother was present, standing silently at the back with her new husband, though this did not move me so much as the presence of people from my crew, who have become so much more of a family than those who raised me. Little Steve was our ring bearer, a holographic velociraptor that the crew has become rather fond of. In contrast to Evan, they were quite taken by the majestic beauty of these dinosaurs (but in his defense, one of them devoured another crewmember before his eyes). It was a simple, elegant ceremony, more for the benefit of friends and family than for ourselves. The true heart of the matter for us lay in the telepathic bond that was established between us. We spent the next few weeks on holiday, and there was a message awaiting me from Sevoc when we returned:

Quote

It is most agreeable to hear from you. As you well know, it was only logical that I attended. The merging of both cultures was masterfully arranged, creating quite a poignant ceremony. I understand the brevity of it all. I have been in better conditions. I have not adapted as well as I have in previous posts. Perhaps the issue is within myself. While the command staff of this vessel is adequate, it certainly lacks the particular style we employ. After this has been sent, I will endeavour to find a crewmate that I have some kind of common ground with, so to speak. Until our next communication, dif-tor heh smusma, T'Ra.

The past month has not exactly been quiet despite being assigned a rather low priority mission, low enough in priority that Starfleet command did not even bother to contact us on the matter, instead letting Hawke stumble upon it by chance when he was going through old messages on his desk. We were to conduct a routine inspection of Civilian Research Outpost 12, which was in an area of space we happened to be passing through. But it turned out to be anything but routine. Hawke and I, along with a few others, beamed aboard as a diplomatic away team. We were led through the station by Doctor Carol Higgins, a vivacious and sensual leading scientist. As Hawke was pulled aside by Higgins, the rest of the team and I were led toward the banquet room to be dined without having seen anything of interest. As it was, I had little appetite to eat, but the festivities were interrupted not long after the dinner had begun. Lights flickered and the station shook, and amongst it all, one station member seemed to be more ill at ease than others. Takur, who had been seen earlier with our security crewman K-5, was at the dinner, visibly agitated... and without K-5. When confronted, he confessed to having left her in a maintenance closet at Higgin's behest. K-5 had been infected by a top-secret AI program being developed at the station, and Higgins was desperate to keep this quiet. When matters continued to escalate, eventually leading to the evacuation of the station, Higgins refused to leave. Every member of the away team made it safely back on board, as did many of the station's crew, but Higgins was not one of them.

But perhaps it is the most recent development that is the most stunning of all, also giving explanation for a number of things that I have been feeling of late: nausea, changes in mood that I have fond difficult to control, and the pains in my abdomen. Quite simply, I am with child. I do not imagine it will take long for the news to spread across the ship. Already, Steve seems to have noticed something, and he has now taken to following me around more often and nestling against my stomach, where the child within me grows. Come what may, whatever trials we might face out here in the black, I cannot think of a better place for such a miracle such as this to happen.

=/\=End Log=/\=



Ich lache, weil es ein Loch in mir gibt.
-Evan Buehler

T'Ra Jones

=/\=Personal Log=/\=
Startdate: 72863.0

There is little to report since my last entry, except that I am exhausted, mentally and physically. This entry is born more out of some need for meditation than for anything to report. The circumstances at hand are beginning to take their toll. And Evan will be chastising me one minute for bringing this "defector" on board with his implants ("First you go on some mysterious mission to battle the borg with Kirok, then you help open one of their old transwarp conduits, and now this... you've really opened a can of worms!") and the next he's making some wise crack about how we're going to be parents. Mmm...

The captain's plan was to make for Risa, though I'm still not entirely sure how that was supposed to help. He ordered all non-essential and pregnant personnel to evacuate the ship. I neglected to remind him that this would apply to me as well, nor do I plan to anytime soon. My pregnancy does not affect my ability to carry out my office as first officer. I will leave it to the medical team to inform him should they decide otherwise.

Non-essential personnel were sent off on shuttles bound for Risa, to maintain the illusion that this is where we would all be heading. We were joined by the Discovery, and once our two ships separated into smaller vessels, we commenced our attack on the cube, capturing the Romulan Tal-Shiar agent who was in command of the borg cube.

Now we find ourselves dealing with a much more mundane matter of having a bunch of cadets crawling around the ship. Whether this was a wise idea is also up for debate. A few battle drills and time will tell.

=/\=End Log=/\=



Ich lache, weil es ein Loch in mir gibt.
-Evan Buehler

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