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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Aug 26, 2018 5:29:53 GMT -5
Personal Log: Stardate 95619 - U.S.S. PilgrimThe setting is the office space in sick bay, Intrepid class standard. Soft music plays in the background, computer analyzes as Fiona Apple, "Fast as you can" circa 1999. The Doctor has a weary look, the lights in sickbay are dimmed.Computer, start personal log Dr Delancey, append stardate and location. Save that as a permanent preference setting.As first days go, this was one for the records. I've been on board long enough to get a night's sleep, and one days's work. Feels like several, but then again, compared to everyone else on board, my day was as a holiday. We lost two officers, it hit the crew hard. I felt for them, but to me, they were names on a screen, not friends I had lived with on a ship of less than two hundred. Rigby seems like a good egg, I don't know why I felt so protective of her, as soon as I saw things were going to go bad, I... I screwed up. I should have alerted the bridge to my suspicion, but instead i redirected Rigby so she wouldn't see it. They train you to trust your Captain knows what they are doing, and will do what she, or he, can in order to protect ship and crew. I came into this with only a two minute reading of a brief, dealing with a people of which this crew has extensive first hand knowledge. It was hubris to think I was seeing something the captain missed.She turns away from the monitor, and picks up a PADD, then returns her gaze to the video pickup. During the pause, the music changes. Computer analyzes as Fiona Apple, "Get Gone" circa 1999.I can't get past the feeling, if I had sent my thoughts to the bridge, those two officers would still be with us. Damn it. I have to form a relationship with these people where I can speak my mind, and not feel hindered by protocol. For all I know, if I had spoken up, Vulcan or not, my words would not have fallen on deaf ears. How could a logical being have seen that situation for what it was?, they just don't think like that. But hells and all I do. It was a scene straight out of a B horror flick of the '70s. As soon as I saw the garb on that girl, I knew what was going to ... well, I knew she was going to release it. I expected her to be a willing sacrifice, a vessel to hold the spirit so the sanctified warriors could kill the beast. I knew it was going to go bad, in the movies, it always went bad. Why the hell didn't I speak up sooner? Why did wait till someone else said they should leave and then concur? I know why. This is the first I've served on a ship at sail since I lost the Faraday. I was thinking that if I broke protocol, our logical captain would come to the conclusion that I had an eye to her seat. Conclusion; forming a relationship with this crew has to be a priority, especially with the captain. I need to get past my own hesitation caused by my dealing with CDR ST'val. She is not him.Additional Note: Dr. Vant, I should check on him.Computer; end personal log and bring up complete log of injuries and personnel that reported to secondary medical location, Holodeck 1.
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Aug 29, 2018 6:03:26 GMT -5
Personal Log: Stardate 95635.70 Text Only:
The Pilgrim is on the way to the Citadel. I've never seen it.
Entry paused, 20 minutes elapse;
I'm watching out of the mess hall view ports. I've missed seeing stars like this. To be reminded of why we looked at the stars with such fascination for all those generations. If there was not so much danger involved, I would wish to just get lost in exploration again. Perhaps when the current crisis is over, I'd love to get to see a new nebula, and paint it.
Then burn the painting, goddess I'm awful at painting.
Entry paused, 33 minutes elapse;
I should get a second cup of tea, but what I really want is a kamikaze. I am very glad I spent my time on Risa getting my stress relief before coming here. I can't imagine walking into a position like this, with the muscle tension and pent up stress I had built up at SFMED. Of course, that and... you don't date patients.
Entry paused, 2 minutes elapse;
Note to self; check database for massage therapist holographic matrix. If none, work with engineering to develop one. Or two.. maybe.. or .. one capable of being sheathed as any race or sex. I suspect that many of the crew could benefit, after seeing people unable to relax enough to sleep.
Entry paused, 5 minutes elapse;
Note to self; study the Vulcan neuropressure mapping to translate my own osteopathic fascia manipulation training into appropriate manipulations for Vulcans. I should probably develop treatment plans for the Klingons as well...
Entry paused, 2 minutes elapse;
And other specific racial groups as well. Why does it bother me so much, the concept of giving therapeutic massage to Klingons? Is it the spine? Or is it an older fear? I'll get over it. ; Add it to my to do list.
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Sept 10, 2018 0:01:15 GMT -5
Personal Log: Stardate 95652.96 - U.S.S. Pilgrim (Docked Citadel Station)
Anne sits at the desk, presumably in her quarters. The lighting is set to roughly 20%, casting much of the room in shadows. The bed in the background is unmade, and she sits wrapped in a bed sheet, her hair tussled.
Computer; start personal log. Oh, and add encryption layer and password protection. Command level access and my own only. Save new parameter to the preference settings.
I can't sleep, I need to make some notes on this before I will be able, I'm sure of it.
We held a memorial for Ensigns Laige and T'Vin. It was an emotional affair, with everyone speaking well of the dead. Not everyone of course, I hung back because I did not know them. I saw another though who was hanging back, and spent the rest of the evening chatting with her.
Ilya is an oddity. She seems to be a source of contention among many members of the crew, and also has very little respect for the Pilgrim, her captain and her crew. If we were not in another Galaxy, I think I would push to have her reassigned. She claims she does not get reassigned because of a relationship with the first officer. I would cry foul, but .. my history. She is angry though, very angry. What is worse, she is despondent, having given up. I do not know what I will find to inspire her, but I cannot in good conscience watch her continue to spiral out of sanity.
She is not bad company, though I am still trying to figure out her heritage. Obviously there is Cardasian there, but I think she is a mixed race. I will have to look up her file, but not for this. That would not be ethical. She took me to a holodeck bistro in Portsmouth, England, early mid 20 century, between the world wars. She brought up some serious issues that have bearing on my current circumstance. She has no confidence in the majority of the crew. She is also very much incensed over the destruction of the USS Ark Royal.
I need to keep my eyes open, apparently I am on a ship of the damned sailing into limbo. I don't think this, but she does, and she has been here for a couple of years. There must be either something I can do to help turn her around, or find evidence of her accusation. She apparently did have a decent career, and it is self destructing.
Computer, end log, verify password added to log files. Verify password is saved to preference settings for future logs.
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Sept 12, 2018 3:18:03 GMT -5
Personal Log: Stardate 95669.75 - U.S.S. Pilgrim - Sickbay
The image is apparently being taken from a PADD, as it is moving rapidly back and forth around the sickbay, covered from time to time by a case or a hand, then is finally still as the PADD is set down on its side, leaning against something. The doctor can be seen rushing around, then walking back toward the PADD with a bottle of Scotch in hand, the Doctor sets it down almost in front of the video pick up. With the view slightly occluded, the microphone records still voices but not the words.
Dr. Delancey is then seen to sit at a terminal, typing. The music resumes as Debussy - RĂªverie, and she puts her hands to her knees, watching a screen that seems to be the bridge feed. She closes her eyes and looks as though she is meditating, even though the sickbay continues to show the red alert indicator on a panel.The doctor keys up a voice channel on coms."Bridge, Sickbay" A few moments pass, based on the sounds coming from the bridge monitor, things are busy. An acknowledgment is heard. The Doctor makes a statement calm but with an edge of impatience, as if annoyed at the disruption to her meditation."The entity is telepathic, block it... salvation protocol. " Sounds from the coms, the Doctor seems to give an exasperated look at her terminal, but Is unseen in a voice channel."Is it anticipating your attack? Keep it from reading you buy blocking your intent. " Moments pass, words unintelligible from the coms. The doctor seems satisfied."Sickbay monitoring, but out. " The Doctor walks back over and sits down, resuming her meditative pose for a minute, then she says."Rigby.. take a chair into the OR and keep close watch on her vitals, I don't want to be surprised should her numbers change... stasis should be that." The blonde nurse responds "Yes Doctor" and drags a chair past the video pick up, sitting at the head of the biobed. A muffled series of alarmed voices can be heard, as well as an apparent under the breath statement of frustration from the doctor. She gets up and grabs another package of items and moves into the OR. The lights flicker. "Computer.. activate emergency backup power supply in SIckbay. I have a patient in stasis. " The Doctor seems annoyed, though from the angle of the floor and on the side a smile might be an annoyance, even more so when the lights flicker again. The doctor leans down to pick up the PADD. "F'k" she utters as her finger finds the activation switch on the PADD. She simultaneously ends recording with the lights flickering out once more.
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Sept 19, 2018 15:21:38 GMT -5
Log File - D.Delancey Terminal Access Command Level Functions - CMO: ********* >Open Personal log file...Personal Log: Stardate 95670.25 - U.S.S. Pilgrim
The visual pick up sees a tired face of the woman people are coming to know as Dahlia, or Doctor. She tries to start speaking a couple of times but just stops and shakes her head. Her uniform is disheveled and appears to be stained with blood, at least from what can be seen on the pile of clothing in front of the cleaning unit. Dahlia sits and stares at the screen for a while longer. She utters a single expression automatically deleted as profanity and stands up, clad only in undergarments she crosses the room to the fresher. The computer automatically pauses recording when she leaves the room.<Paused - Time elapse 00:02:11:37>Dahlia returns to the room with her hair pinned up, wrapped in a bath sheet. The sound of draining water can be heard. She sits again at the terminal, her face scrubbed of makeup.Personal log... It was a good end to a very bad day. Jill is going to be fine, as is her passenger. We saved 13, but that bitch.. the womanlike thing that we saw turn into the cloud, she killed 24 of us. I suspect that Ens Tier and I would have been casualties as well if we had decided to confront the entity I saw on the tricorder. I'm proud of my staff.. they worked so well today. I'm proud of Jagoda, he came through. I should not have doubted him. I put him in my report, I want to see a commendation added to his file. He had every reason to be scared, but when he was reminded that he was a Starfleet officer, he stepped up and was brave. I wish I was as brave as I had to pretend to be. Fake it till you make it they say. But a commander can't tell an ensign just how relieved they are when joined by them, because she was really freaked out in the dark. Or that I was having dozens of horror movie scenes from my childhood flashing through my head.. rule number one... the girl doesn't go off into the shadows or the night looking for help. It's the best way to end up the next victim. But the fact is, I didn't have confidence that we would see Jagoda returning with help. Jill was stable, but she wouldn't stay that way. We had to find a way on our own. Hedge your bets Pops said. So I did. I'm just glad it worked out. Oh, and I guess that was rule number two, rule number one was don't have sex in the woods. I'm tired.. and I'm still more than a little bit freaked out and angry. I'm trying not to be, a simple mistake, I'm one in a million people who refuses to be transported via beam. I have the right to have my wishes on this matter respected. But... Things were chaos on the bridge I was told. I should have requested the transport directly from ops or the transporter operator. But I had an open channel to the bridge at the time. My words were specific.. a logical response would have been to listen and comply with my request. "One to transport, Dower.. right to the biobed if you please." Not.. transport us to the sickbay. I sat in the bath meditating, trying to be sure that part of me wasn't lost. I think I'm whole, but I can't be sure. I can't explain to anyone what my real fear is... they would likely laugh me off the ship. I know life in Starfleet, especially in the exploration service is dangerous. I've accepted that dangers we face might result in injury or death. I still fear both, but not as much as ... ... I don't know. Oddly, I feel the most brave when I have a patient depending upon me. Or a younger officer or crewman looking to me for leadership. Speaking of.. what is up with me when it comes to Rigby. I am still thinking of myself as someone who has to protect her. She's an adult, a Nurse.. maybe that's it. I remember what that was like, and how lost I felt. Or maybe I'm just thinking of her as a little sister or something. I will say one thing, Rigby and Rhys... no doubt some sparks flew when I put them together. I should get some sleep, Alpha shift stars soon. Computer.. I'm .. play through the bed speakers only... file header Daliance:1990s - 'enn eye enn', all music files under ' The Downward Spiral'. The computer chirps an affirmative and a banging sound like someone banging on the wall begins.Oh.. skip track one... but flag this file as one to offer Mreshi. The computer chirps again, and the banging ceases, replaced by a heavy bass guitar track with soft-spoken lyrics and light percussion.That's better. Dahlia rises to go to the bed, unpinning her hair and shaking her head out, she starts to shift and sway to the music. She reaches for the towel, detaching the catch she spins back toward the monitor smiling and her eyes flash the slightest embarrassment.Oh, computer, end log and log out. * File note - A noise complaint was made 13 minutes later against Dr. Delancey. Records show she raised the sound volume by 150%. Noise complaint was withdrawn 8 minutes later. *
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Sept 26, 2018 5:53:36 GMT -5
Personal Log: Stardate 95706.26 Visual pick up in one of the Citadel guest quarters, spartan and undecorated. A short woman with long auburn hair and pale skin paces back and forth. She stops and looks at the terminal.I can't believe this shite. . . I left the ship, went to the Citadel, purposefully so that I wouldn't risk entanglements with the crew. The point was to keep my private actions my own, and remain private. Dahlia Delancey grits her teeth and seems to seeth then turns her head down and to the left and lets out a heavy huff.We all almost died. I'm concerned for the crew, but I am a person too. I just wanted to sleep next to someone alive, to remind myself that I was alive. I wanted someone to hold me, make me feel safe as I slept. Is that really such a thing? Really? She seems exasperated by her last statement. Privacy... I asked him to be a friend, to help me and share some time together. But more than anything else, I didn't want to hear about it afterward from others. This damned program the FNN is running is the last thing I want to be hearing about how I spend a night. So tonight, I sat down for a nice dinner... still feeling pretty unnerved, so I got a scotch to go with it. Who do I see before I can settle enough to eat? The Captain. I'd been putting off talking with her, I'm glad I did. It would have gone very wrong if I had not waited. I would have said something I didn't really mean, not taken the time to really understand the situation from her side. The conversation went well, despite the worst possible outcome of my night of snuggling with an officer from another crew. Loud enough to be heard throughout the lounge, he has an argument over comms with his roommate, about me. I'm mortified. Seriously, that was .. he should have left the room at least. Nice enough guy, but if he was involved with my subordinate, he should have admitted that instead of telling me how long it's been since he was with anyone, and how long it's going to be till he is in the future. ... I thought he was a nice guy, a bit awkward but a potential for a friendship. And if I ever met a guy more in need of some instruction... I thought maybe for another night that might happen. Way too messy a situation for that. . . What the hell. How did something so simple go this wrong? I suppose it could be worse, it could have been filmed. She sighs and stands, turning and stalking away and then back again.Oh, I met the new officer assigned. The leader of our Delta contingent. She seems alright, the crew should have a little more confidence with some better-trained fighters on board. I can't say I will be one of them. The adversary I've seen so far isn't one that will be succumbing to phaser fire or a punch or kick, she could just dissolve a delta as fast as any of us. But maybe they will be effective against some of the worshipers like the Kirtascans if they give us trouble. She stares at the monitor.This is what I asked for, exploration, being out here and seeing what comes our way. This is what we join Starfleet for, to see and experience the unknown. F'k this is more unknown than I expected, that's for sure. Dark entity clouds that consume entire planets worth of sentients... s.o.b. this is messed up. On a positive note, I'm jumping around a bit... if you are looking at this in the future to remind yourself of something Dahlia... you, me, we were drinking tonight. As they said, you just had to ask for the real stuff. So forgive the jumping around in thoughts.. you got many at the same time. Oh yeah.. the positive note. . I talked with the Captain about the transporter incident. I let her know... reminded her of my Personnel file, and my religious objection to transporter use. She was accepting and did not give an argument. I was surprised, but then again, I was a lot more reasonable when I brought it up than I would have been a week ago. We are of the agreement, no transporters unless the threat of immediate death is imminent. The risk is much reduced without the transporter used to zap me from place to place. Now I just need to avoid becoming a star in the stupid recruitment effort. She reaches down below the monitor, picking up a glass she knocks it back, draining the contents over a minute or so, then crunching on the ice. She looks back at the monitor and gives a determined sigh.I look at the Calendar, I see it's less than a week. His birthday, our anniversary... a week later his death... It was another life, another woman's life, but I still remember it. It still is in my heart. It reminds me of how alone I am. She rattles the remaining ice in her glass.This.. helps a little.. but I think I'd need a lot more of it. But I can't do that, not here, not now. I can't drink myself into not feeling. I can't even seem to find someone to share basic human warmth without causing an incident. Goddess I want to beat my head against a wall. Computer, end log.
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Oct 2, 2018 0:55:34 GMT -5
Stardate 95720.74 -
Visual pick up in one of the Citadel guest quarters, spartan and undecorated. A small woman with long auburn hair pulled back, bearing a big smile and an exuberant look about her, she sits before the terminal. She has a transient appearance of the devilish and secretive trickster as she seems to decide what to share with the log.
Wow. The Pilgrim is due to be finished and ready to debark soon. I had thought that the whole of this downtime would have been completely trashed by the first night and that debacle with .. what was his name, that kid from Protector... Damian that's right.
I gave up, decided I needed to do something to take my mind off things or I'd end up a drunken sot for the entire time we are docked here. What did that get me, I sacked out next to a kid for warmth and ended with the news of that broadcast to.. oh damn, f'kall. Not good. I drank for another day, no... two... I think. I don't know, I lost track of how much scotch I drank.
So... not healthy. I decide I'm in for a cleanse. I'm drinking lots of water, eating well, and exercising none stop. I go onto the lounge for dinner, STILL in my tights and in need of a shower. I'm not there to pick up on anyone or be picked up. Wouldn't you know, the moment I'm not giving a damn about what I look, or sound like.. I meet an interesting guy.
His name was Domenic Jacobs, I think. He was evasive about who he was. He made me smile. He was charming, daring and when he stuck out his arm, there was no question I would go with him on whatever adventure he dared to take me on.
For a while, I forgot about this place's troubles. I forgot about the evil IT. Evil IT, what is that from? Oh yes, a book I read when I was a little girl. IT, the description of the Dark is so much like it, that is all my mind can conjure. I forgot about the whole crew of my ship almost becoming a bit of nourishment for the Dark's minion cloud entity from Hessok Vridi.
I look forward to seeing him again. He is just the kind of distraction I need in this place. Tomorrow, I go back to work, too bad he's not around tonight. I could use another night of smiles.
Computer, end log, usual security, my password or command authority to access.
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Oct 11, 2018 17:15:18 GMT -5
Stardate 95738.96 -
Visual pick up in the office of the CMO. She sits, albeit fidgeting, in a slightly ill fitting jumpsuit of the kind issued to prisoners in order to keep them comfortable but under control. Her long auburn hair is pulled back in a rough ponytail, she wears no makeup. Her hazel green eye flick back and forth as if she is nervous, the silver flecks seem to crackle with electricity as they pick up the blue of her interface screen.
No. I'm not sleeping anymore tonight. This is what I get for taking a sleep aid to try to normalize my sleep patterns. Computer; set a reminder to work on personal holographic security .. something. Maybe my cat.
We were invaded, an alien species of humanoids that seem human, but are from somewhere else. They captured Pilgrim, stuffed us in a k-hole and were examining us. Goddess that's creepy. Their tech seems, older. But familiar. I have to wonder if maybe Starfleet has interacted with them before, maybe left them some technology to reverse engineer.
Rightfully so, because of the sheer terror they put the crew in, there was a violent reaction. Perhaps a bit too violent, but I don't know what they did to the others before I woke up.
Oh, the jumpsuit, that's what I could replicate quickly when we got the power back on. I'm going to have to consider sleeping in a nightgown if this sort of thing happens a lot. Not that I'm embarrassed to be seen naked, but I didn't particularly wish to be on display for strange aliens or the Pilgrim crew. I wonder if any of them will be able to look at me the same after?
I'm regretful to say it, but one of the aliens killed themselves rather than be captured. Who does that? It's like an old cold war spy thing when nationalists were up to no good against the other groups of nationalists.
I need to find a way to relax... then I need a shower, or three... no. Shower first.
Computer, end log.
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Oct 18, 2018 22:20:40 GMT -5
Stardate 95759.20 -
Computer, upload marked transferred data from my PADD, compress the file, encrypt and lock with my passcode, no exceptions. Delete all other copies of the data, recursive algorithm, wipe all record from Pilgrim computers, authorization CMO Pilgrim, *******
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Oct 21, 2018 18:27:15 GMT -5
Stardate 95759.20 -
-- The camera picks up Dr. Delancey with her hair pulled back and in civilian attire, a white blouse showing a conservative amount of cleavage.--
Computer; Standard encryption and password requirements are to remain in effect for my personal logs. Begin log
I am making this recording to place into the record, I believe in what I am about to do.
There is an emissary aboard from Kirtascan faction that does not believe in their theocratic rule. I have made the effort to pull together a record of the Hessok Vridi incident, narrated only by the voices recorded. I was careful to use only what was possible to pick up from transmissions being sent to and from the surface. The video includes a set of helmet cameras, as well the stationary video pickups placed during the previous visit. All of the incident as well as the reaction of Starfleet personnel of record on the surface, including that of T'Vin and Laige, are included in the data file.
I admit it is quite difficult to watch. I did nothing to shield from the horror that ensued, as such is necessary to give the full impact of the tragedy that occurred, as well as the additional damage that could have occurred.
The theocratic leadership of the Kirtascans will no doubt bring to bear upon us all of their righteous furies and in doing so cause the death of many who have no reason to be put to the fire. I felt it was important to let the one member of their species who will listen to reason, see the truth of the incident with her own eyes.
I will make no suggestion of what to do with the information, nor will I act as a counsel to her ideas. I will deliver this data recording only, with my regards and best wishes for peace between our people.
I do this fully aware that if this information is used incorrectly, it may result in my court-martial. If that occurs, this record is in place to speak for my state of mind at the time. I do this in the hopes that thousands of lives will not be sacrificed on the altar of ignorance. And in the hopes that one day the Kirtascan people will join with us in peaceful pursuits. I have done this alone, no other officer or member of the crew was involved.
Dr. Dahlia Delancey, CMO of the USS Pilgrim
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Oct 31, 2018 4:40:13 GMT -5
Personal Log: Stardate 95792.15 - U.S.S. Pilgrim - Medical
Visual pick up is in CMO office, Medical Bay. Dr. Delancey is seen in uniform, face in very modest makeup and very business like.
Computer, begin Personal log
Working a long day, a lot of busy work. Took the time today to walk the entire ship with Nurse Mreshi. Very useful, since 90% of this ship I had never seen before. I also feel that Nurse Mreshi and I have bonded a bit. That's always a good thing, I think.
Still running simulations and attempting to work out the crystal data. Am I doing the same work as several other scientists? Probably, but this is not a single crystal but a sample of the same crystal throughout the bloodstream of more than a score of test subjects. I think it bears more study.
Mreshi is taking a nap in the next room. Time is counting down till we can go. I'll get her up soon.
End Log;
Personal Log: Supplemental
We have lost transporter and sensor trace on the away team. This is why I advocate a shuttle for these away missions, outfitted as a mobile medical bay. Maybe one day, they did it on the Hestia, but that was a medical ship. I guess it doesn't make sense in this case.
But, at least we are expanding our capacity through holographics. I project we could care for more than 50 patients simultaneously in case of emergency. Ideally, I'd like to have three more EMH if we did that, but it's possible if they are not all trauma patients.
End log
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Nov 8, 2018 5:37:18 GMT -5
Stardate 95811.09 -
-- The camera picks up Dr. Delancey with her hair down and in civilian attire, undressing in front of the camera as she speaks.--Computer; Begin log Goddess that was fun... I haven't gone to the movies to see a musical in .. well, a hell of a long time. No need to too accurate after all. Here is the rub, while a couple of kisses is not a huge ethical debate.. and I have transered him to another physician, and made sure that I'm no longer to have access to his medical data... obviously I considered crossing the line with him... is this something I'm even willing to pursue? -- She steps out of the camera, a boot can be seen to drop off into camera perspective and a bare foot waving in the air a bit, then the thump of the other boot hitting the floor. --Damn he is attractive.. but he's also a kid. He's fresh out of the academy. I should put a stop to this now before it goes to far. Besides, we are stationed on the same ship, and it's a small ship. -- Dahlia walks back across in front of the camera clad only in simple white underclothes but continues past and out of camera view again as she opens one of her travel trunks. --But then again... I keep being reminded, what was I like at 23. I was already a doctor, saving lives and pretty sure I was not a kid. Is it even fair to think of him that way? even if I am 12 years older? Shit, I feel like such a cougar. Do they even use that term anymore? I should check, don't want to use that kind of anachronism if it's really out of place. -- She steps back into view of the camera wearing a very loose fitting and low cut ivory colored nightgown with sheer lace-patterned side panels the entire length, revealing this was all she wore. She pauses in front of the camera. --I am not sure if it's an issue or not. It seems several people on board this ship and others of the fleet are very commonly dating. Is it wrong to shut down something that could be good just because conventional wisdom says it's always bad? -- She sits, looking directly into the camera. Her gown barely covering enough to avoid overexposure, but thin enough to give hint to what is still to be revealed. --Maybe I should have just given into desires and just played with him. Let it be a one-time thing, both of us then could get the other out our systems and keep work, work. He seems like a good guy though, earnest and thoughtful, thought-provoking and with a good sense of humor. Even if he did get too drunk at the party and try to pick both Eren and me up... -- She smirks looking away from the camera as she obviously imagines or remembers something. She then shakes her head and looks back to the video pick up. --I can forgive drunk, we all learn what our tolerances are that way. And he eventually did leave with Eren, so he couldn't have been doing that badly. Maybe I should have gone ahead and done that, blamed it on the drinking. But then again, that's not really me. If I'm going to play it is going to be with a little lubrication not sauced. If I do it, it's because I wanted to, I don't hide behind excuses. Anyway... We went to the holodeck to view the old Earth film, 1966's A funny thing happened on the way to the forum. I love that movie when I was a kid, I remembered it as my favorite movie about Romans. I caught a hell of a lot more jokes this time. My they were racy for the time. I told him it was a farce, and he compared it to other farcical plays from his world. I snuck away to use the restroom and had looked up to see what he was talking about. This movie ran on Broadway and off-Broadway as a play for more than 50 years. I guess it had some staying power. I like his personality.. should I play with the boy and possibly break him? Or should I not play, open up and possibly let him break me? Both options seem like they would be a mistake. But my brain saying this is a mistake is having a hard time keeping itself heard when I get too near him. Why can't this be like with the Doctor I met back on Risa, playful and thought-provoking conversation, drinks, foreplay for a couple of hours then good sex... sleep and more good sex. He even had a nice beach house so I hung out and waited for him to come back for round 3,4 and 5. He was fun, healthy and vigorous, and someone I'd gladly play with again, but we both walked away with no expectations for after. That is a way to spend a vacation. I came to work energized, ready to jump in. It was good for me. Every stupid thing I did on Risa, including that Ambassador, was good for me. Why can't I figure out if this one would be? -- She stands, then strikes a pose showing off her nightgown. --Computer, take a still and query Eirene. This is my thoughts for what to sleep in. So if what happened before ever happens again, at least I'm not naked in front of the rest of the crew. Oh goddess, that is actually funny. Of the entire crew that I work with the guy I'm interested in is one of a small number who has never seen me naked. That's irony... or a sad statement on my attractiveness. -- She leans in smirking at her own humor, taps a few things on the keypad and music starts to play as she backs away and starts dancing to the beat. --Computer, turn up the volume 50%, and amp the base another 30%.... -- She dances to the beat by herself for several minutes, till the song wains. Then she sighs, looking at the bed, then the door. She looks back to the computer and speaks --Computer; End Log.
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Nov 13, 2018 1:56:13 GMT -5
Personal Log Supplemental:
-- The camera picks up Dr. Delancey sitting on the side of her bed in just her red skirt and a demicup black bra. Her bag sits at her feet and she sits holding a black high heeled boot. --
Computer; Open log
What a dream... I don't remember what I was drinking but my head is buzzing, I know I was. I was.. whisked away by a Q like person to a fantasy beach environment in the very distant past. I have no idea why I was dreaming about .. people I've met on the station. I don't think any of them I would think of as friends, just, acquaintances. And Marcus.
O' f'k.. I .. don't want to think about what this dream means. I .. I don't date... sure I play, but I don't date. I don't play with shipmates. This is trouble, I think I need to nip this in the bud before I give in and do something that will end up breaking that poor boy's heart. I don't have to be me to recognize he's smitten. He's a good guy, very charming and.. damn.. mm. No wonder I'm having sexy dreams. But I don't want to hurt him. I don't love, and someone like that deserves to be loved. At least I have a dream like this to warn me I'm getting too involved before I do something with him for real that I can't take back.
-- She drops the boot and her shoulders.--
I wish I could explain to him, or anyone, but I can't. I can't get that close, with anyone. They would just get hurt, people I love die. They always die.
-- Something on the floor in front of her catches her attention. She leans forward and freezes, staring. --
Aww f'k f'k f'k f'k, no no no, shit.
-- She picks up the dropped boot, staring at it as if she is in disbelief. Dahlia pours out some sand as she upturns it. She then drops the boot and groans loudly as she flops backward on the bed. Her voice belies her dismay as she groans and just utters... --
Computer; End Log.
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Nov 14, 2018 17:58:07 GMT -5
Personal Log: Stardate 95827.95:
-- The camera picks up Dr. Delancey sitting at her desk, the finished report of the CMO still on the screen. The sound of a bath filling can be heard, also at excessive volume, late 20 Century music plays; On the Bound by Fiona Apple 1997. --Computer; begin personal log I did what I had to... I think. It would have been so easy to just give into desires and charms. Computer... reduce volume.. to 80 decibels. -- She can be seen walking, pacing back and forth across the room, stopping and staring at the table, the opened package on the table. Pacing again, turning and looking at the package again. --I have dealt with suitors before, it is almost formulaic the methods employed to convince. They are a difficult but eventual result of a free lifestyle. Some will claim a desire to play, but then wish to claim more after. This fine young man has been making his desires obvious from the moment we met. Professional in his actions and demeanor until meeting in a social setting, he did not disgrace himself. In fact, I cannot claim any wrongdoing on his part at all. Yet I am feeling as if I am forced to cause him suffering. The last thing I wished to do was to cause pain, he is a fine young man. And he's good.. charming. I put him at a distance, in such a way that many would have given chase. I was prepared to answer chase, shut it down and end the argument completely. Instead... he put me off guard by respecting my request and allowing me to disengage unmolested. -- The music continues to the next song, 'To your Love', the second song of the music collection. Dahlia continues to pace. --I admit it threw me for a few minutes... as all I could feel was guilt. As I said, he did nothing wrong. And he is good... I get back here, and there is this.. a gift. One I know he values, wine from his world as a gift is something that cannot be ignored, and as sincere. It's not like he replicated something and transported it here as a surprise, he sacrificed something he values in the hopes of providing me pleasure. -- She walks to the package and lifts the bottle, staring at it. The music changes, the next song is more emotionally charged, almost angry. 'Limp', from the same collection by Fiona Apple. --It's a good gift, thoughtful, meaningful... obviously intended to make an impression. And difficult to ignore. -- She puts the bottle down and starts pacing again. The music continues, she starts singing along with the song 'Love Ridden'. She paces out of the room, her voice still able to be heard... --Computer, increase volume 50% -- Log Pauses: --
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Post by Dr. Dahlia Anne Delancey on Nov 15, 2018 5:34:24 GMT -5
Personal Log: Stardate 95828.15: Automatic Pause Release-- The camera picks up Dr. Delancey returning to the room, wrapped in a bath sheet. The music is no longer playing. She carries a glass of golden liquid in her hand, she looks at the table and the package upon it. She shakes her head, takes a sip, then sighs. She paces about the room, sipping at the drink for near ten minutes. She turns toward the table quickly, her still wet hair flying away for a moment and then stalks toward it with purpose. She stops just short of the table, snorts in frustration then walks to her piano keyboard. She knocks back the remainder of the glass, then sits. She places the empty glass on the floor beside her and turns on the keyboard. She puts both hands palm to her face and takes a deep breath, releases and looks once more toward the table. She begins playing, forcefully and with precision.Dahlia leans on the keyboard, head down, breathing heavily. She reaches for the empty glass and glares at it accusingly. Dahlia looks at the package on the table an stares for a full minute. She shakes her head, turning toward the keys again. She taps a key, then another, the drawing a deep breath she starts playing again.She finishes, and deactivates the keyboard, glares at the package, then leans down to pick up the glass, pausing to catch her bath sheet as it slips loose. She holds it around herself long enough to walk past the table into the bedroom. She lets the towel go allowing it drop at the doorway and can be heard letting out a disgusted exclamation. There is the sound like a door slamming, an odd sound on a starship. Several minutes go by before she returns to the room. She strides back in, several ounces of golden liquid once again in the bottom of her glass, now clad in a black silk robe decorated with peonies and butterflies, her long auburn hair combed out and smoothed.Dahlia takes a drink and begins singing as she walks to the piano. She sits down and begins to play just after the first stanza. She sings another, then stops singing but keeps playing the rest of the song.--You'll never see the courage I know It's color's richness won't appear within your view I'll never glow - the way that you glow Your presence dominates the judgments made on you...But as the scenery grows, I see in different lights The shades and shadows undulate in my perception My feelings swell and stretch; I see from greater heights I understand what I am still too proud to mention - to you--Dahlia finishes the song, lifts her right hand to her eye, wiping to moisture from the corner of her eye. She looks over at the table, then lets out a heavy sigh and hangs her head. She switches off the keyboard once again, picking her drink up from the floor. She rises, looks again at the package on the table and walks slowly toward to look at it again. She takes another drink from her glass, then lifts the bottle out with one hand. She appraises it again, drawing a deep breath she exhales heavily and sets the bottle down gently upon the table. She frowns, leaning to look closer at the package itself. She picks up the note and reads aloud. --"Perhaps next time, a play and dinner?"- Marcus Marcus.. Marcus Marcus.. -- She shakes her head and takes another drink then rolls the glass in her palm over her forehead and groans. -- What am I going to do with you? No wonder you didn't give chase... you didn't have to... you had a trap waiting for me in my room. -- She looks back at the ornate paper sticking out of the box, lifts a piece out and stops mid-movement. She would appear frozen but for the breathing and then the subtle shake of her head as she retrieves a second box from within the first. She takes another drink, all but finishing her scotch as she steels herself to open the smaller box. She sets the box on the table and opens the lid. Dahlia gasps at the contents, looking at the sapphire and gold necklace, the glass slips from her fingers to bounce to the carpeted floor and clattered against the table leg. --
Aw f'k no.. -- Her hand now free of the glass covers her eyes as she draws a sharp breath and steadies herself by the table with the other hand. She stares in disbelief for several moments before she walks to her desk and retrieves a tricorder. She walks back to the table as if she was approaching a dangerous animal, screwing up her courage with each step. She was frozen by what she was looking at on the screen. --Computer; reopen personal log, supplimental entry. -- The computer offered a negative chirp then responded. "Personal Log recording in progress." --Um.. this, eueh, I don't know what to say.. This is too much. Computer, enter into the log the readings from the tricorder. .. Um, ... --She puts down the tricorder on the table, picking up the necklace box and stares in disbelief. --Oh Marcus.. what the hell did you do.. what is this supposed to mean? Computer; Please send Lt Marcus Aquila a message once he is awake that I wish speak to him at his earliest convenience. -- The computer offered a confirmation chirp. --Computer; Append music file to the message to Lt Aquila. File from 'D.Delancey 1997 collection, 'Fast as you can.' -- The computer offered a confirmation chirp. --Play the music file to confirm... -- She listens, then starts singing as she walks to the bedroom, necklace box in hand. --Oh, darling, it's so sweet you think you know how crazy, how crazy I am... You say you don't spook easy.. you won't, but I know and I pray that you will... Fast as you can, baby run-free yourself of me fast, as, you, can.
Computer; end the fucking log... ... ... Computer; end personal log. -- The log ends with her in the bedroom, the music still playing. --
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