Post by ken on May 21, 2010 18:06:44 GMT -5
Star Date: 88991.16
Personnel: Commander Kenneth Virox
Location: U.S.S Ixion- Deep space 9
Log title: Dreams and Mirrors
Visual/Audio log:
>Ready to record
>-- awaiting verbal signal
"Computer, begin recording...personal log, first entry."
Ken rested his head on splayed finger tips, his green eyes focused on the screen. He sighing, shifting upright in his seat before speaking.
"Where to begin? Well things within the fleet are going well, still allot of people I need to meet and get to know. But that is to be expected and it’s not like there is any need to rush. I was officially commissioned at the last meeting, which was a surprise end to the gathering. I've been assigned to the Squadron 3: General Mobile Fleet Squadron, though still I'm waiting for a mission assignment. For the time being I'm operating out of Deep Space 9, the surrounding sectors seem to be suffering at the hands of a group of Cardassian terrorists, the True Way..."
He trails off as he turned to look off screen. His had voice remained neutral and fairly monotone, betraying his disinterest in the subject he spoke of. He was recording this log for a reason and a commentary on his activities during the past week was not it. He shifted in his seat, suddenly looking uneasy and unsure of himself as he turned back and leaned towards the screen, the low lighting in room casting shadows across his face.
"They've gotten worse...the dreams...or nightmares would be a better description. First they were simply vivid memories from Virox's past hosts, then it was their fears and their own nightmares and now...now the memories and emotions that I experience are neither of those. What I see and feel is not from of my predecessors, I know that much, though one of them appears to be part of the events that unfold. It is a vision of war, against combatants I do not recognise and the being behind these visions is vindictive, contemptuous and predatory. What is worse I do not even truly know what occurs in these memories, as upon waking I am left with only an impression, nothing precise that I could use to check the historical database. It’s beginning to affect my sleep and recently...recently I wonder if it’s affecting my grip on reality! About five days ago I was cleaning up after a long patrol and I looked into the mirror and, for a few moments everything was fine, then my reflection...it stepped away from the wash basin and just grinned at me sardonically, but when I turned to grab my comm badge to call for security and turned back it was just me again. It happened again, two days ago. I was staring in to an offline consol, when a face peered over my shoulder. This time it wasn’t my face, but a woman’s, a Vulcan. It had the same look behind the eyes and that same grin, like a predator toying with its prey and when I turned...well you can guess, there was no one standing beside me..."
He leaned back, taking a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair. The rusting sound disturbed the silence of his quarters.
“ Nozonay doesn’t know about the incidents with my reflection, but she is fully of aware of the worsening dreams. I’ve had them for the past two months, but things got worse about 3 weeks ago, when I got hit by a conduit discharge. The initial prognosis was that I’d just escaped with concussion and low grade burns. But further tests show possible neuronal disruption, something about changes in neuronal membrane potentials. So why haven’t I gone back, or booked my physical with Lt Cmdr Laurel Orkney? Am I afraid of what they might find? Or that they may not find anything...”
His head sank and came to rest upon up turned hands.
“I don’t care anymore; I just need to get to the bottom of this...before I lose my mind. I have a message to Dr Orkney to draft and an engineering proposal to finish for the Admiral, End Log.
..Recording ended
>>private encryption 77A9
>> Log filed and stored
Personnel: Commander Kenneth Virox
Location: U.S.S Ixion- Deep space 9
Log title: Dreams and Mirrors
Visual/Audio log:
>Ready to record
>-- awaiting verbal signal
"Computer, begin recording...personal log, first entry."
Ken rested his head on splayed finger tips, his green eyes focused on the screen. He sighing, shifting upright in his seat before speaking.
"Where to begin? Well things within the fleet are going well, still allot of people I need to meet and get to know. But that is to be expected and it’s not like there is any need to rush. I was officially commissioned at the last meeting, which was a surprise end to the gathering. I've been assigned to the Squadron 3: General Mobile Fleet Squadron, though still I'm waiting for a mission assignment. For the time being I'm operating out of Deep Space 9, the surrounding sectors seem to be suffering at the hands of a group of Cardassian terrorists, the True Way..."
He trails off as he turned to look off screen. His had voice remained neutral and fairly monotone, betraying his disinterest in the subject he spoke of. He was recording this log for a reason and a commentary on his activities during the past week was not it. He shifted in his seat, suddenly looking uneasy and unsure of himself as he turned back and leaned towards the screen, the low lighting in room casting shadows across his face.
"They've gotten worse...the dreams...or nightmares would be a better description. First they were simply vivid memories from Virox's past hosts, then it was their fears and their own nightmares and now...now the memories and emotions that I experience are neither of those. What I see and feel is not from of my predecessors, I know that much, though one of them appears to be part of the events that unfold. It is a vision of war, against combatants I do not recognise and the being behind these visions is vindictive, contemptuous and predatory. What is worse I do not even truly know what occurs in these memories, as upon waking I am left with only an impression, nothing precise that I could use to check the historical database. It’s beginning to affect my sleep and recently...recently I wonder if it’s affecting my grip on reality! About five days ago I was cleaning up after a long patrol and I looked into the mirror and, for a few moments everything was fine, then my reflection...it stepped away from the wash basin and just grinned at me sardonically, but when I turned to grab my comm badge to call for security and turned back it was just me again. It happened again, two days ago. I was staring in to an offline consol, when a face peered over my shoulder. This time it wasn’t my face, but a woman’s, a Vulcan. It had the same look behind the eyes and that same grin, like a predator toying with its prey and when I turned...well you can guess, there was no one standing beside me..."
He leaned back, taking a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair. The rusting sound disturbed the silence of his quarters.
“ Nozonay doesn’t know about the incidents with my reflection, but she is fully of aware of the worsening dreams. I’ve had them for the past two months, but things got worse about 3 weeks ago, when I got hit by a conduit discharge. The initial prognosis was that I’d just escaped with concussion and low grade burns. But further tests show possible neuronal disruption, something about changes in neuronal membrane potentials. So why haven’t I gone back, or booked my physical with Lt Cmdr Laurel Orkney? Am I afraid of what they might find? Or that they may not find anything...”
His head sank and came to rest upon up turned hands.
“I don’t care anymore; I just need to get to the bottom of this...before I lose my mind. I have a message to Dr Orkney to draft and an engineering proposal to finish for the Admiral, End Log.
..Recording ended
>>private encryption 77A9
>> Log filed and stored