When on Bajor

Posted on Tue Mar 21st, 2017 @ 3:49pm by
Edited on on Tue Mar 21st, 2017 @ 3:50pm

Mission: Mission 3 - Negligence
Location: Bajor
1355 words - 2.7 OF Standard Post Measure

When on the run from Ferengi that you happened to have ripped off, one of the best things you could do was find a nice little planet and stay under the radar, hunkering down for sometime. A few days maybe a week on Bajor Ezra's plan. He took on a fake alias to use around the locals and had unfortunately resorted to surgical means to blend in with the locals. The Bajoran slit ridges down the bridge of his nose were not perfect, but unless someone really examined them, they passed well enough. He had ditched his usual civilian clothing for the garish attire of a Bajoran Prylar monk.

Hardly anyone paid him much attention for the few days he had been on the planet. It allowed him time to start planning his next move. The thought of going to Risa was appealing, but when you are a criminal on the run that last place you really want to be is somewhere known for being a pleasure planet. Especially a planet that was frequented by Starfleet officers on shore leave. It was not like the Federation had any warrants out for him, but if anyone he had gone to the Academy with saw him...lobes were everywhere.

With a Bajoran PaDD in his hand, "Prylar Navin" got himself some tea and took a seat on awkwardly shaped boulder that was perfect for sitting on at least for a while. He was in a pretty secluded area as he began to record more of a personal log, picking up where he had left out from the previous evening.

”...Starfleet Academy, where the best and the brightest young minds in the Federation go to get an excellent education and give back to the United Federation of Planets. So many apply, a minority accepted, and after being thinned out to rather marginal numbers, only the best graduate and earn their commissioned ranks as officers of Starfleet. At least that's the brochure summary. What they fail to tell you is you can do your absolute best, try your damn hardest and be on top of the world, passing classes with near perfection and still not meet their high standards and expectations. I was dismissed from Starfleet Academy. No, not kicked out. Not suspended nor expelled. I did not flunk out in any way shape or form. My grades were just fine. I won't lie and say I was going to graduate summa cum lauda nor magna cum lauda, but I was going to graduate cum lauda without a doubt. I was starting my final semester, just a few classes separating me from what had been my dreams...my destiny. Or so I thought.

You see, Starfleet does not have much room for guys like me or at least how I had been back then. I wore my courageous mask quite well through holodeck simulations that tested my quick thinking and action skills. What I was not prepared for was to be tricked into a simulation that I was not prepared for and thought was real. When I found myself facing a perceived real threat to my life and the lives of others, I clammed up. I froze. So, that was the end of my career in Starfleet. Highest rank achieved? Cadet Senior Year. I guess it goes without saying that I was relieved to find out that my fellow Cadets I thought had died because of me were perfectly fine, but that relief was short lived as Starfleet kicked me to the curb as it was.

Don't worry, my time at Starfleet Academy was not a complete waste. I took my education and did the best salvaging I could in academia. I attended Regulus III Science Academy, a pretty good Academy for the Sciences, but it was no Starfleet Academy. I graduated summa cum lauda from there, finding it far less challenging and my graduating class to be nothing but wander lusting science nerds and egotistical maniacs. I could walk circles around the majority of them with advanced theories. Languages were always my thing, but I excelled quite well at the Stellar Sciences like Astrophysics, but my passion for piloting lead me to minoring in Astronautics (also known as Astronavigation). I spent some time as a Communications Operator with the Federation Naval Patrol and later the Federation Merchant Marines, but I pride myself more on being a true linguists rather than a communications operator.

Starfleet was training me to be a Science Division Communications Officer, but I had my hands into various Science courses to be considered a Science Officer, just also having passed the additional qualifications examination for Communications Officer. Though Communications was a dying position which had already seen itself far removed from my sincerity to the field of linguistics. Communications positions in Starfleet were primarily carried out by the aforementioned 'Communications Officers' who were just specialized computer technicians who used the universal translator to send messages and translate incoming messages, instantly translating transmissions. So may Starfleet Communications Officer would have been screwed if their Captain was in the middle of negotiations with a Ferengi Daimon and the UT was malfunctioning or ceased to operate. Not me. I am well read and have actually taken the time to read, write, and speak a few languages fluently. I might not know every language in the galaxy, but I'm always up for the challenge of cracking a language without the help of the UT.

For someone who holds a degree in Exolinguistics and has worked his entire adult life in Communications, I actually have a bit of problem with it when it comes to keeping in contact with people. I always considered myself a strong family guy, and some would even call me a momma's boy. Well, they did at the Academy, but all of that kind of stopped after Starfleet and I parted ways. I thought it for the best that I cut ties with my family. So, I tend to go quite sometime before responding back to their subspace messages to me. My mother was proud of me when I enrolled and was accepted. She had been one of my strongest supporters as a Cadet, and she was ready to see me off as an Ensign. I feel like I let her down. I do not like talking to my family because I feel like a disappointment to them. I don't wear a Starfleet uniform anymore and I haven't for a while. I had a uniform for the Federation Naval Patrol and even somewhat of one for the Federation Merchant Marines, but I've turn my back on all of that” the young man said as he worked on recording a log. He was not sure why he was doing it exactly. He just felt his story needed to be told and if something were to happen to him that at least his mother wold know how he felt and why he ended up doing what he had.

He finished his cup of cold of tea as he saved his log entry and listened in to the conversations going on around him. Mentions of a starship looking for crew caught his attention, almost perking his ears. That's my way out of here he thought to himself. And boy did he need a way out of the Bajor sector. Screwing over his past client on a business deal, taking the latinum and running had not been the smartest idea, but he was desperate. If he could procure himself a job or barter himself passage on this starship, it might get him far away from the people after him. And if all else failed, he'd find his way aboard and stoaway for as long as he could. When he heard the starship's name, the SS Mary Rose, he thought it safe enough. No ruthless Nausicaan or bloody thirsty Klingon was going to cruise the stars with a starship of that namesake. When he heard the name, he thought about some old retired couple who got too bored living on Risa and wanted to recapture their youth.

 

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