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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Nov 4, 2015 8:32:41 GMT -5
USS Sentinel NCC-93014 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (The evening after the events of Sentinel 11/1/2015)
:: CODE AUTH: ASADA-357-DELTA-GAMMA-2 :: COMMAND: ENCRYPT LOG :: COMMAND: LOCAL ONLY LOG, DO NOT TRANSMIT TO STARFLEET
[Log Begins]
Tiberius is sitting at his desk, looking exhausted. He's wearing a gold operations division uniform.
This has been one hell of a day. I don't normally make log entries, but I need to make an exception for today. I've got to be honest with myself: I lost my cool in a way that was entirely unbecoming of a Starfleet Officer. Maybe if I sort out the events in my head, I can get past this.
It all started when Mr. Cameron barged off the bridge for no apparent reason. He's always been a good officer. At least, as far as I knew. If it was anyone else, I might have written them up for retiring from the bridge without prior authorization, but I wanted to extend him some courtesy by talking it out with him. That's when I found out that Mr. Cameron, as well as most of the senior staff, has been concealing information from myself and Captain Dalun.
This revelation hit me like a metric ton of self-sealing stem bolts. I don't know, something in my head just snapped. Apparently they didn't know if they could "trust me" with the information. Trust me? I've been on this ship for what, six years, since it was re-launched? When has my fidelity ever been in question? For that matter, when has Captain Dalun ever been anything less than forthcoming and straightforward?
We've taken on all manner of threats together, from telepathic monsters to rogue elements with our own Starfleet, but I guess that doesn't count for much. They went from "my crew" to "people I work with" in about sixty seconds flat. You get close to people without realizing it. I always thought I was a pretty by-the-book officer; I don't overly fraternize with the crew. I try to keep my dealings professional. But when you risk your life with people time and time again, you can't help but develop some kind of bond. And then you find out that maybe they didn't quite trust you as much as you trusted them. Tiberius seems to choke up a little bit.
Anyway. To make matters worse, orders came down from Starfleet which reorganized the command structure of the Sentinel. Commander Arnimane is the new Executive Officer, while I'm now back to Tactical only. At first I thought it was Starfleet Command "messing" with us (a term I borrowed from Mr. Cameron), but upon further reflection, it makes sense. She was promoted to full Commander over six months ago. And for whatever reason, I was passed over for a promotion. Tiberius raises his hands up in the universal "I don't know" sign. I don't claim to know what Stafleet has in mind, but I can guess.
I became a Lieutenant Commander back in the Adagio days, mostly because I created the concept of Task Force Delta. I'll admit, it was a good idea. Hell, I won a Grankite Order of Tactics, Class of Excellence medal for it. You know who else won a Grankite Order of Tactics, Class of Excellence medal? Kirk and Picard. Enough said.
But when I really think about it, I've been milking that cow for too long. Everyone knows me as "the guy that started Task Force Delta." I had one good idea eight years ago. That's about it. Let's be honest, I stalled out. Maybe I reached my peak eight years ago, or maybe I just got lucky. Commander Shantal works miracles every week while I'm just pushing buttons on a Tactical console.
I can't be mad about that. This situation requires a radical re-evaluation of what I thought about my role on this ship. This is probably a much needed wake up call, in fact. Honestly, I had moments in which I thought I was a pretty big deal. I got a good lesson in humility today.
I really took it out on Spencer, though. I totally freaked out in Sickbay at her, and made her cry. I guess I should apologize after this.
At the end of the day, the biggest lesson I've learned is that we are our own greatest enemy. Yes, it's a cliche, but look at all the strife caused because of us. Not because of some alien influence or because of Starfleet, it's because we didn't trust each other. We are not a united front here, and I'm not sure we will ever be.
End log.
[Log Ends]
USS Sentinel NCC-93014 Personal Log Supplemental
[Supplemental Log Begins]
Remind me not to update my Spacebook. Some officer named Pratt on the Pilgrim "liked" my demotion. What the hell? Goodnight.
[Supplemental Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Nov 10, 2015 10:57:59 GMT -5
USS Sentinel NCC-93014 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (The evening after the events of Sentinel 11/8/2015)
:: CODE AUTH: ASADA-357-DELTA-GAMMA-2 :: COMMAND: ENCRYPT LOG :: COMMAND: LOCAL ONLY LOG, DO NOT TRANSMIT TO STARFLEET
[Log Begins]
Tiberius is sitting at his desk, looking exhausted. He's wearing a gold operations division uniform.
Three days. Three days until we board the Herald Sphere and attempt to take out one of the Iconian's top strategists. On one level, I'm glad that we're finally striking back. On the other hand, I'm not sure that we're ready.
Let's just say that the briefing with Delta didn't go well. Apparently, there's some kind of minor power struggle between Ensign Adryan and Lieutenant Brand. The Ensign seems to think he's the greatest tactical genius on the ship, which is exactly the kind of attitude that will get us killed over on the Sphere. Brand seems to be intent on knocking the Ensign down a peg.
I'll be honest, I've been very critical of Lieutenant Brand in the past... maybe too critical. I always found him to be a little too rash, a little too eager to use force against fellow crewmembers. But he's earned a great deal of respect from me lately. I think he might well be command material one day... although I can't let myself forget that he was one of the officers that kept this Project Salvation data from us.
Speaking of Project Salvation. I've been meticulously reading the data we have on it. It looks like this project has been going on for... a long time. The earliest year mentioned in the log files is 2264... the year before Captain Kirk began his historic five-year mission as commanding officer of the Enterprise. I don't think the date is a fake -- many of these entries were recorded on duotronic computers.
And, on top of that, it sounds like Spencer ran off and joined them again. At least, that's what I assumed from what Commander Rendino-Razzor said. She was a little opaque about it, but I got the point. Part of me thinks that maybe Spencer had her reasons. Another part of me wonders... well, I don't even want to say it.
Call me crazy, but I'm not sure this Project Salvation is so bad. Obviously, they have had some problems with rogue agents in recent years. But this clearly goes up to the highest levels of Starfleet, and if the highest levels of Starfleet wanted us gone, well... that would be easy enough. A micrometre hairline crack in a dilithium matrix? You'd never notice it until it went boom. There are a million ways to take out a ship if you have resources like they do. The attack profile suggests, at least to me, that the Salvation leadership doesn't have it out for us.
The reality is that I need to forget about Salvation for now. We've got bigger problems on the horizon -- like this mission. I'm currently working on our game plan. Let's hope it pans out.
[Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Nov 26, 2015 12:54:43 GMT -5
USS Sentinel NCC-93014 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (The evening after the events of Sentinel 11/22/2015)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius is sitting at his desk, looking exhausted. He's wearing a gold operations division uniform.
I can't believe we just did that.
The mission went off without a hitch. Nobody died. Injuries were minor. Some bruisers, some sprains, but we all walked away from our daring raid on an Iconian dreadnaught. I'm still just in a state of shock.
I can't help but be shocked that it went so well.
Anyway, there's another event looming on the horizon. It's something I've been trying to prepare myself for a long time. I've seen it coming, but only now do I feel it breathing down my neck. In just about one month, on December 21st in Earth time, I'm going to turn 40. *he shivers* At least I don't look it. I think my composite genetics are going to keep me looking young for some time to come. Hell, I might live almost as long as a Romulan one day. Nobody really knows. Nobody -could- know. As far as anyone can tell, my existence is more or less an anomaly that's not likely to be repeated soon.
Once all this is done... once we've saved the Federation yet again... I might buy one of those "Hourglass IV" civilian ships. I've been reading about it on the holonet. Top speed of Warp 5.5, cruising speed Warp 5. Supposedly one of the best replicators available. I've got just enough latinum saved up for it.
The Galaxy is a big place. You could point a ship in one direction and travel forever, seeing nothing but empty space and the occasional comet or nebula or star system. No Starfleet, no Iconians, no Klingons, no war. Just one vast empty galaxy. No drama. No crew evaluations. No phaser calibration. No overcrowded Defiant. Just me, in one little ship, and a whole lot of nothing. Wouldn't that be nice? I mean, to have nothing after having so much... -something-. To just take off.
Maybe we'll have dinner in the mess hall one night. It'll be like any other night. I'll say hi to Lt. Cameron. I'll order the same thing I usually order, the tuna melt. I'll forget the cole slaw for the table, and I'll have to play rock-paper-scissors with Daniels to see which one of us has to walk back to the replicator to get it. I'll lose, because everyone knows I like to play Rock. I'll tell Doctor Spencer a joke I just read on Spacebook. She'll smile politely, even though she didn't really find it funny. I'll give my cornbread to Joy, because she likes it more than I do. We all might toast to something or another, then head off to our quarters to get ready for tomorrow. But tomorrow would come, and I wouldn't be there.
Getting old really makes you think. And next month I will, officially, be old.
End log.
[Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Dec 6, 2015 18:30:03 GMT -5
USS Sentinel NCC-93014 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (The evening after the events of Sentinel 11/29/2015)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius is sitting at his desk. He's wearing a gold operations division uniform.
Honestly, I was expecting this -- sooner or later. Earth is under attack.
I'm calmer than I thought I'd be. We've been slowly moving toward this conclusion, and I think on some level, we all knew it would happen eventually.
I don't mean to minimize what's going on, but... Earth is another planet in the Federation to me. The closest thing I had to a homeworld was Romulus, but... that's long gone. So when people talk about Earth like it's "home", I just don't feel that way. This is a subject that's been on my mind lately. Technically, I have no family, I have no homeworld. I thought that meant I was alone, but that's not true. This crew is my family, and wherever they are, that's my home.
The die is cast, so let fortune favor the bold.
End log.
[Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Dec 22, 2015 10:08:51 GMT -5
In his subconscious, somewhere...
Tiberius sat on the edge of a console, subconsciously re-watching the memory of him throwing Lt. Cameron into a wall telepathically. Tib dangled his feet leisurely and looked around the Science Lab as Cameron hit the durasteel wall with a sickening crack.
“Personal log.” He chortled exotically, “Stardate… well, I just don't know!” He laughed even more. “Until the sedative wears off, I guess I'm trapped in here.”
The memory of Spencer and C'Son hurried past him to check on Cameron. “It's a bruised spine, doc!” Tiberius shouted at the two and laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Of course, nothing changed. He was watching a recording… but it was so vivid. He never had a memory like this. He could count the hairs on Spencer's head or read the details off the science console next to him.
“I know what you're thinking, Jon!” He pointed at Cameron's still-prone form. “You're thinking that I've gone crazy with power. I'm not an idiot! I know the old trope. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. I've guarded myself against that!” Tib placed a hand over his heart.
“In fact, I know what you're all thinking… literally! There are no barriers anymore!” Tib declared to nobody in particular as he hopped off the console. He blinked for a second and returned to an earlier memory; it was the bridge of the Sentinel back before it was destroyed. The Defiant was just about to reach the Battle for Earth at the close of the Iconian war.
Tiberius walked behind the Captain's chair and leaned on the back, whispering in the ear of Joy – well, the memory of Joy, at least. “Is this what you all want? Death and destruction? How many died on the Sentinel, or on Earth, or on the fleet?”
Tib stormed out of the bridge, but as the hatch opened, he was in another memory. It was the mess hall on the Sentinel, some years ago. The crew was having dinner and laughing at one thing or another. Tiberius grabbed a chair and slid it next to the memory of Spencer, who was drinking coffee.
“I'm not on a power trip, you know.” Tib smiled and shook his head. “You just don't understand wisdom like I understand it. And finally, I'm seeing all the wisdom behind Project Guardian. This is the future of mankind. I'm not a mad God, I'm here to protect you!”
He stood up, kicking the chair out from under him. It slid across the room as he grabbed his face in his hands, laughing wildly. The sound of the laughing drowned out the memory of his crewmate's conversation.
“Where are you, Bluebird? Wake me up, so we can continue our work! The project must continue. There is no other option. Finish whatever you're doing and get me out of this.” He paced around the room. “And for that matter, why don't I have a cool codename too?” He laughed maniacally before slowly replacing his smile with a frown.
“All their days work is grief and pain, and even at night, their minds don't rest.” Tiberius shook his head disapprovingly. “I was no accident! I wasn't born, I was made. And maybe I was made for this! To lift them all up and protect them, no matter what their small minds think!” He felt a rise of anger and frustration, and suddenly he was enveloped in nothing but infinite blackness.
“Am I a God? I don't know. I shape the universe with my fingers, I hold the key to life and death in my hands… maybe the role fits me well.” He closed his eyes tightly, and he was back in the memory of the Science Lab. The action had “frozen” at the moment he was stunned by Cameron.
Tiberius laughed deeply as he placed his hand on Cameron's shoulder and looked right into Jon's terrified face. Tiberius whistled a tune and sung a few bars to a song, his silver eyes locked, unblinking, on Cameron's. “Just as every autumn leaves fall from the trees, tumble to the ground and die, so in the springtime like sweet memories, they will return… as will I.”
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Dec 28, 2015 23:52:12 GMT -5
USS Sentinel NCC-93014 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (The evening after the events of Sentinel 12/27/2015)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius is sitting on the edge of a biobed in the Intelligence Lab. He levitates the log recorder in front of him and looks into it with his silvery glowing eyes.
You know, I was never good at playing the guitar until recently. He reaches behind him and pulls out a guitar and strums a few notes. Anyway, this one goes out to those bastards at Starfleet who want to kill me and dissect my brain. He clears his throat and begins to play an old Earth song, singing along as he does it.
Once the song finishes, he stares into the camera with unblinking eyes until it shuts off.
[Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Feb 1, 2016 9:36:42 GMT -5
USS Tigershark NCC-92961 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (A few hours after the events of Sentinel 1/31/2016)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius is sitting a desk in the old USS Tigershark, looking even more exhausted than usual. He's wearing a gold operations division uniform, and he seems to be looking toward some point off camera instead of into the log recorder. The lights are dimmed low, and his face and shoulders are the only things visible. There's some music playing softly in the background.
I guess I should start at the beginning, which was about 40 years ago. There was some kind of Tal Shiar project to clone humans. From what Starfleet tells me, it was a follow-up to the Shinzon incident in 2379. Supposedly they used some Romulan and Reman genetics, which explains my telepathy. But it looks like there was more to it. I understand that at the time, I was carrying some kind of... substance for Project Salvation in my brain. When Romulus was destroyed, though, the Tal Shiar project scattered and I ended up on a colony world.
Doctor Spencer discovered some kind of block in my brain and removed it, which I guess allowed whatever that substance was to take hold. I was described as godlike, which may not be an incorrect description.
He stops and thinks for a second.
The flying was the best part, although I could regenerate limbs, create objects out of thin air, pass through a level 10 force field... it was an experience. I increased by three inches in height, which I have apparently still retained. I even had those silver eyes that espers typically have... although I could choose whether I wanted them or not. But I chose them... as a warning. I knew what it meant to my crew. It meant danger.
He looked concerned.
Mentally, it was tough. It was like all the bad parts about my personality came out. I wanted nothing more than to rip apart everyone in the room. I had no problem lying to people, to my own crew, just to get what I wanted. And worst of all, I wanted to run off with the rogue Project Salvation and leave my crew behind. Though when I felt Alton die due to Gemini, I was knocked to my senses... a bit, at least, maybe for a time.
It all started when I decided that I would turn myself over to Project Salvation in exchange for them leaving my crew alone. Instead, I went with Billie's plan to try to unlock my own ESP. It ended with Commander Razzor shoved some goo in my face that once again blocked the ESP.
God, what a terrible idea this was. Everything was a terrible idea.
He sat back in his chair, barely visible on the camera.
Like I told Liz... I grew up thinking I'd be the big hero, flying across space and time to fight bad guys and protect the weak. How foolish that was! My sole purpose in life was to be the villain, and I was indeed the villain. People tell me, "Oh, Tiberius, I'm glad you're back to normal."
He shakes his head.
Maybe I was normal when I was an esper. Maybe that's my natural state. Maybe this -- he tugs at his uniform -- is all play acting. What do I do now? Pretend that I'm some valiant Starfleet officer, when we all know what I really am?
He chortled, perhaps a little less exotically than usual.
Of course I'm going to take out the rogue Project Salvation. But I'm going to take out a lot more than that, too. I was a weapon from day 1 -- maybe that's why I became a Tactical officer. What if I was born to destroy, and that's all I can do? He laughed. "Born." Maybe that's not the right word. I was made, made by evil men, in an evil project, to do evil things.
He looks back at the camera.
I think that whatever it was is still up here. He taps his head. That's why I'm dangerous.
I don't want to remove that goo, but God, I can imagine myself trying one day.
Mark Twain once said, "Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody." What if my moon is all dark?
Tib pauses for a moment.
At least there's stars at night. I see no stars here.
End log.
[Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Feb 8, 2016 23:25:29 GMT -5
USS Tigershark NCC-92961 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (The evening after the events of Sentinel 1/31/2016)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius is sitting a desk in the old USS Tigershark. There's some music playing softly in the background.
That was one hell of a day. Where can I even begin?
It all started with Admiral Ross showing up for a surprise visit. I have no idea what this Admiral was after... he seemed to be investigating the destruction of the Sentinel. He took a little extra effort to rub my nose in the fact that I was demoted from Executive Officer. That was fun.
Tib grunts and sits back in his chair.
I think it's official. I've had the most roller coaster midlife-crisis ever. First, I found out that my crew was hiding the existence of Project Salvation from me. Then, that same day, I was demoted from XO to Chief Tactical Officer. Then just a few weeks later, my ship explodes. And then I turn into some psychic death god while awaiting transfer to a new ship. Can it possibly get rougher than this?
Ugh. Just when I think I got over the XO thing, Ross has to... nevermind.
Anyway, I really upset Walker. Totally my fault. I'm going to smooth this out, both with her and Jon. It would help if Jon wasn't so reactive. I need to talk to him about his anger.
Tib sighs.
I had a good conversation with Commander Arnimane. She used her own situation as a recovered Borg to show me that it was always possible to be something more than what you were intended for. I'm on the fence about it. Her argument makes sense. On the other hand... Tib shakes his head. I don't know. This... he tapped his head... is a time-bomb. I don't know what's going to happen when it goes off.
I'm probably just imagining it, but I can feel it back there, like it's crawling around in my head, wanting to get out. I don't know what more to say.
Tib reaches over to turn off the log recorder, but at the last second, doesn't.
To be honest, I don't care about this Project Salvation nonsense. The "Good" Project, the "Evil" Project, it's all the same to me. I know it sounds bad, but I don't care if Commander Razzor wins or the Administrator wins. I just want my crew to make it out alive. I think that's always been my opinion. That's why I wanted to make peace, by offering to join "the dark side" in exchange for calling off the assassins. Hell, if the offer was still on the table, I'd do it right now. That's probably not what Commander Razzor wants to hear, but it's just the truth.
I don't think there's any compromise to be had. Once again, we're off to be soldiers in a war we didn't start. Great. My job is clear -- make sure this crew makes it out alive, even if that's the last thing I do.
You know, I read something interesting. This is from an old Earth poem:
"Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep."
Miles to go before I sleep.
End log.
[Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Feb 26, 2016 18:37:41 GMT -5
USS Tigershark NCC-92961 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (The evening after the events of Sentinel 2/21/2016)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius is flipping a coin, looking into the camera, his eyes wide. His head was tilted up slightly, like he was trying to be impressive. The coin lands on the back of his left hand -- he slowly waves his right hand over it, and the coin appears to be gone.
"I guess that's magic for you," he whispered. "I just learned that."
"All things considered," he narrated for a hypothetical person watching the log, "You'd think I wouldn't be into magic. If you know me, you know that I'm a rough, rugged, no-bullshit leader who could shoot a slip of latinum clean off a Ferengi's head at 500 yards. Bet you never pictured me as a magician." He smiled energetically.
"That's what this is all about, baby!"
He pumped both fists into the air. His left shirt sleeve pulls down, revealing a small gold chain around his left wrist, from which a small brass locket dangles. It was the standard locket you would get if you walked up to a replicator and asked, 'give me a locket.'
"Oh, this." He jangled it in front of the camera. "This is my backup plan." Again he smiled wildly.
"Anyway! After that briefing, I knew we needed out of the box thinking. We needed a wildcard. You know, when I first became a security officer, I was very risk-averse. Now I realize -- if you don't risk it, you'll never get the biscuit." He winked at the camera and turned off the log.
[Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Mar 11, 2016 0:02:10 GMT -5
USS Tigershark NCC-92961 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (The evening after the events of Sentinel 3/6/2016, more specifically after his conversation with DeSoto in the forum RP)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius is sitting behind a beat-up desk inside some miscellaneous side-room in the Tigershark. He looked incredibly tired; his uniform was in disarray, and some dried up blood spots were noticeable near his collar. He began the log by signing a bit of a song.
"Come over the hills, my bonnie Irish lass Come over the hills to your darling You choose the road, love, and I'll make the vow And I'll be your true love forever."
He closed his eyes as he continued to sing, getting lost in the song.
"Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows Fair is the lily of the valley Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne But my love is fairer than any.
'Twas down by Killarney's green woods that we strayed When the moon and the stars they were shining The moon shone its rays on her locks of golden hair And she swore she'd be my love forever.
It's not for the parting that my sister pains It's not for the grief of my mother 'Tis all for the loss of my bonnie Irish lass That my heart is breaking forever."
He opened his eyes and sighed.
"I don't even know what that song is called. Hell, I'm not even Irish. It was my favorite song as a kid... used to sing it whenever I was stressed out. I didn't even remember it until now." He rested his head on his hand. The tiredness in his eyes was evident. "I don't remember a whole lot from when I was a kid... just a little here and there. I'm not sure I want to remember, actually."
He lifted a PADD from the desk and started reading it over.
"This is, ah..." He shook the PADD in his hand as sharply exhaled. "a write-up about the Artivaran Project. It's about a Tal Shiar experiment to breed a natural esper. Used genetic manipulation to create telepathic abilities. Apparently they used 'negative feedback' to try to elicit these esp reactions." He had a grim look on his face. "After Romulus was destroyed and the Empire was destabilized, it was brought into Project Salvation by a Doctor Stephanie Rendino. As the story goes, the most promising subject... Code-named 'Raptor'... was kept under close personal care of Doctor Rendino before he was released into general society, then groomed for Starfleet Academy. The project is still underway."
Tiberius dropped the PADD onto the table -- it bounced a couple times until it settled flat. He sat with his head in his hands for a few minutes, saying nothing.
"I guess..." his voice was muffled as he spoke with his fingers "it feels different now that I know for sure. What happened, I mean. The 'what ifs' were driving me crazy. In a way... I actually feel less stressed now."
He looked back up at the camera. "When I was talking to the Administrator back on 220... it felt like I was talking to my mother. I suppose I know why..." he scoffed. "I suppose this explains a lot of things."
"I hate to admit I was wrong, but it was foolish for me to ask DeSoto to remove that goo that Liz put into my head. It was a rash plan." Tib exhaled sharply, trying to deal with it. "I need to accept that Liz isn't going to be able to bail us out next time. I wonder if I can get some information out of our... guest... that might help us. Could be worth a shot."
Tib took a deep breath.
"In the meantime, it looks like my 'little sister' took over my quarters. That's why I'm here, of all places, to get a little peace and quiet."
He exhaled.
"Looks like I need to get back to work... see you next time, if there is a next time."
He reached forward and hit the End Log button.
[Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Mar 11, 2016 21:35:24 GMT -5
[Supplemental Log]
Tiberius was still sitting in the same position... clearly this log was made immediately after the last one.
He nodded "I've been thinking... for months I was wondering if, well, I was really this 'Raptor' operative or if I was Tiberius... you know, the whole Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing. I get it now, though. It was the 'negative reinforcement'... I associate ESP with persecution and pain, so naturally it made me paranoid and angry."
He shook his head. "It's still probably a bad idea to take out the blocker... PTSD is a tough thing. But all this information has given me a different perspective on it. You see... I still don't think it's the power that the real issue. If you give a man a phaser, he could kill a hundred people with one press of a button. Give a man a starship, and he could genocide an entire race. People have done terrible things without ESP... and people will continue doing bad things without it for many years to come."
He paused and looked at the camera. "The problem is what people will do to get that power. We can kill each other all day with what we already have. The idea of having a race of supermen, though... that can cause someone to turn against their own brother. And that's what we need to fight against."
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Mar 21, 2016 9:58:48 GMT -5
Unassigned Officer Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada
Stardate : (A day or so after the events of Sentinel 3/20/2016)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius is sitting in a chair at a desk in some relatively comfortable quarters. He is wearing a fresh uniform, pressed and starched. Overall, he looks incredibly well-rested.
"It seems like just yesterday that I first heard about Project Salvation and its rogue elements. In reality, it's been about five or six months. Let's just say that it's been a whirlwind from then to now, but I am pleased to say that the rogues appear to be completely and totally defeated. To everyone's surprise, it turns out that the multitronic M5 computer was behind it all." He leaned back in his seat.
"The M5 computer... it makes perfect sense. I remember learning about it in the Academy... a cautionary tale for engram-based computers. It was obsessed with protecting mankind from the dangers of space, no matter how unethical the methods. Pretty much sums up the rogues, huh?" Tib rubbed his forehead. "It's offline. And on top of all that, we were able to save Aries and both of the Gemini operatives. Stephanie Rendino is in rough shape... not sure if she's going to make it. I hope she does, though. There's already been too much death."
"I also received a bit of closure for my personal situation. It turns out that I was carrying some essence of the Dark Mother this whole time, which explains the ESP abilities. Or was it really ESP? It was definitely something different than what the other operatives had. Anyway, I lack the proper word to describe it. In any event, the Dark Mother took it back, which is something that I welcomed very much. She was much nicer than I anticipated. In fact, she seemed... pleased that I was able to talk down Aries." Tib leaned forward in his seat.
"She gave me a gift." He smiled. "My psionic abilities didn't increase per se, but... I have a much greater focus and mental discipline over them. But, and this is perhaps the best of all, I don't feel guilty about them anymore. I spent the last six months agonizing over my past, but it doesn't seem like a problem anymore." Tib looked extremely pleased.
"It's nice to be on the Adagio. I've been hanging out with Delta... most of the original members are still here. I'm so impressed with how they've developed... I can't believe it's been so many years."
"There's still some work to be done, though." He had a serious expression on his face. "Jon's brother is still out there, somewhere. We need to go get him once... well, if the crew stays together. We're technically unassigned personnel at this point given that the Tigershark is gone." Tib sighed.
"Throughout this whole ordeal, I'll say that I learned three things."
He held up one finger. "Don't mess with ESP. We all have our appointed bounds that we cannot pass... so don't push the envelope."
He held up two fingers. "Engram-based computers were, are, and always will be a bad idea."
He held up three fingers. "People can, and will, do bad things whether they have ESP mojo or not." He frowns and looks off to the side, thinking about how Jon wanted to kill a defenseless Aries. "The important part is to remember that there's always some good in there, somewhere. If you think that someone is unredeemable, then you might as well condemn all of humanity."
"Now... I was on the Tigershark for the past couple months, and the Sentinel for the past six years... and none of them had working holodecks. So... I'm about to go find one." He smiled.
[End Log]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Mar 28, 2016 7:44:55 GMT -5
Unassigned Officer Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada
Stardate : (Immediately after the events of Sentinel 3/27/16)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius sat in his quarters on Starbase 220, his hands clasped together and resting on the glassy desk in front of him. A cup of coffee is visible next to him, steam rising into the air.
"I just finished up my debriefing with Captain Mueller. Contrary to my expectations, the meeting wasn't for the purpose of professional discipline. It did, however, confirm my aversion to meetings with Starfleet Command."
"I was informed that I would... finally... be receiving a promotion to full Commander. The last time I was promoted was back on the old Adagio, so this is a welcome surprise." He ground his teeth. "That's not much consolation, though. To be honest, I don't care about pips right now." A vein throbbed in his forehead.
"I wish I could be happy about this, but the fact remains that I am still the low man on the totem pole." He shook his head. "I left my position on the Adagio to become Executive Officer of the Sentinel. I was Executive Officer of this ship for five years... five years! I was even acting Captain while Dalun was on maternity leave. But now it's official... I'm back to Chief Tactical for good. Ironically, the same position I left behind on the Adagio. The same position I was doing just one year into my first starship assignment." He clenched his fists angrily. "All because I recommended Shantal for a promotion because I thought she deserved it. People tell me that the situation is my fault... of course I know it's my damn fault!" He pounded his fists on the desk, causing the coffee mug to jump and splatter a bit out of the side. He took a few deep breaths and started to calm down.
"So now I have two options. I could go off to the new Sentinel and be a good little tactical officer while everyone whispers behind my back about that 'guy who used to be XO.' Or I could cut out now and enter the officer transfer pool, even though everyone assures me I've got no chance there." He leaned back in the seat and rubbed his forehead.
"I guess there is a third option. I could go to the new Sentinel, be a model officer for a couple months, then book it for the first XO position that opens up. I don't care if it's a goddamn garbage scow at this point. I'm not going to let the last five years of my life go to waste. I don't care what Captain Dalun says or what Captain Mueller says or what Commander Shantal says. I'm not going to pretend like the last five years of my life didn't happen!" He stood up abruptly. "I look forward to the day when I never have to hear the word 'Sentinel' again!" It seemed as if he was getting ready to punch out the log recorder, but instead he turned around and stormed off.
Eventually the recorder powered down due to lack of activity.
[Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Apr 8, 2016 16:43:51 GMT -5
USS Sentinel NCC-99014 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (Immediately before posting to the new USS Sentinel)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius was apparently in a set of quarters on the new Sentinel. The log consists of nothing but him playing this song on his acoustic guitar:
[Log Ends]
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Post by Lt Cmdr Tiberius Asada on Apr 16, 2016 20:22:03 GMT -5
USS Sentinel NCC-99014 Personal Log
Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada - Chief Tactical Officer
Stardate : (Immediately after the 4/10/2016 Sentinel episode)
[Log Begins]
Tiberius was sitting in his quarters, as usual. He puts down a PADD that he was reading and begins speaking.
I might be the only person in this crew who isn't excited about our new posting. I wish I was... they've given us one hell of a new toy. This new battlecruiser makes the old Sentinel look like a child's toy. I can see why this would be an exciting time.
My transfer request was officially frozen... my guess is that they don't want any major crew transfers in advance of the launch of this new ship. It's true, I serve at the direction of Starfleet, so I am not entitled to complain. My scheduled promotion to Commander was also frozen, because, apparently, a demotion in position wasn't enough of an indignity.
You know, I was looking back over the personnel logs of the old Sentinel. Out of the original alpha shift bridge officers, the only two remaining are the Captain and myself. This was the only consistency from Day 1 until the last day. That was the old Sentinel, though. This is a different ship and a different crew.
So, my only option is to tough it out until I can get a recommendation for transfer. Wish me luck. [Log Ends]
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