NCC - 86105
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Starting Over...

Posted on Fri Apr 15th, 2011 @ 12:34am by Lieutenant JG Dylan Tyler

"I have just arrived on board the USS Endeavour as their new Assistant Tactical Officer. It would seem that despite my disagreements with Commander Talix on my previous assignment, my request for transfer was granted to the desired position that I feel I was entitled to. Though it is a new ship, I can already see similar problems already beginning within my own being.

"One, I find I have nothing in common with this crew. Granted, I understand they just got done dealing with an ordeal involving overly large insects which has made them bond to a certain extent and I was not here for this, but they seem to be a well knit group. They are highly emotional with their fellow crew mates and I believe this may be a problem as emotions tend to make the most intelligent beings into complete morons...stop recording," Dylan realized that saying something like "moron" was very unprofessional and seeing as this was a log that may be heard by the Captain or Starfleet at some point, he was not about to let his own emotions make him act like a moron. "Computer, delete last sentence of log and resume recording," Dylan heard the familiar affirmative beep from the computer and continued.

"Though it may be argued that a strong emotional attachment to one's crew may strengthen the efficiency and creativeness of the crew, there are just as many arguments that it can cloud one's judgement to the point of breaking protocols that are in place for a reason. I am trying not to make assumptions of my new colleagues as I have not even spoken more than two words to any of them. Those two words being 'Thank you' to the science officer who informed me that Lt. Vanders was not aboard but would return shortly.

"Perhaps I should take the opportunity to try to understand the need for emotional attachments. Though it makes me sound like a Vulcan, rest assured I am not, but I simply know the consequences that exist when you let yourself become so emotionally involved with your crew that you end up doing something that costs you your life...stop recording," Dylan could feel his anger rising again. He took a seat in his new quarters behind the desk. Odd how somehow, Dylan could never see any place he was as a "home". The room, with only a few slight differences, was the same as his last assignment. Still cold, still devoid of life. Almost as if a stranger was living there. Dylan unpacked his clothes and placed them in drawers when he first arrived in his quarters. After placing his necessities in their appropriate place, he pulled out the only two personal items he owned. A picture of his graduation from Starfleet Academy with his mother and himself and a picture of his father holding a small boy on his shoulders that Dylan, no matter how hard he tried, could no longer recognize.


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Tags: Lieutenant Lianna Vanders