Post by Lialus Raithe on May 28, 2020 9:58:29 GMT -5
*Sitting quietly in a room with the lights dimmed, uniform partially undone and resting on the edge of the bed sits a young Bajoran male in a doctor's uniform. His dirty blonde hair disheveled and framing his angular face as he stares at the ground.*
"Computer, begin personal log Ensign Valen Kris, Citadel Station, Day One."
*A familiar chirp sounds that the recording is ready.*
"I wonder how many bright-eyed Ensigns are approved for the first posting they request, how many even get the chance to request a posting? Of that number, how many find themselves regretting their request on the first day of their assignment? I've made such a mess of things and I've only been here a few hours." *A heavy sigh rings out in the recording as the young man falls backward on the bed and stares at the ceiling*
"I requested service under Sublieutenant T'Lena aboard the U.S.S. Protector because I wanted the opportunity to learn about the medical practices and procedures that Romulans have employed and how those practices and procedures have been incorporated into someone serving in the Federation among the plethora of races and cultures intermingled herein; a challenge which I suspect Romulan physicians haven't had to contend with for most of their medical history given the staunch xenoisolationist tendencies of the former empire. The Republic, having opened its doors and broadened its horizons, is stepping out into frontiers the Romulan people have very little experience with...theoretically. I thought it would be a great opportunity to study under an accomplished doctor who happened to be a Romulan as well.
In my brilliance, however, I managed to offend her on essentially every level possible to offend her and earned myself a night filled with frustration, insecurity and remorse. After what can only be described as a catastrophic introduction to my department head and the less-than-warm welcome from the rest of the crew I get to spend the rest of what may likely be my short life picking up the pieces of my career from the floor where they've been shattered and trampled on."
*There is a long silence in the log.*
"No doubt I'll have to talk to Commander Clerie and provide some measure of justification for my abhorrent behavior but what precisely am I supposed to say? 'Hi, I'm Kris and I'm trying to set the record for ending my own career and causing turmoil in the crew of a ship as fast as possible.' Ugh. Or perhaps 'Hi, I'm Kris and I'll be leaving now.' That would certainly be shorter.
Prophets guide me, give me some measure of wisdom over the next few days.
All I wanted to do was help people and study techniques and methods they aren't likely to teach in Starfleet Medical.
How did I make such a mess?"
*The log ends abruptly, no timestamp.*
"Computer, begin personal log Ensign Valen Kris, Citadel Station, Day One."
*A familiar chirp sounds that the recording is ready.*
"I wonder how many bright-eyed Ensigns are approved for the first posting they request, how many even get the chance to request a posting? Of that number, how many find themselves regretting their request on the first day of their assignment? I've made such a mess of things and I've only been here a few hours." *A heavy sigh rings out in the recording as the young man falls backward on the bed and stares at the ceiling*
"I requested service under Sublieutenant T'Lena aboard the U.S.S. Protector because I wanted the opportunity to learn about the medical practices and procedures that Romulans have employed and how those practices and procedures have been incorporated into someone serving in the Federation among the plethora of races and cultures intermingled herein; a challenge which I suspect Romulan physicians haven't had to contend with for most of their medical history given the staunch xenoisolationist tendencies of the former empire. The Republic, having opened its doors and broadened its horizons, is stepping out into frontiers the Romulan people have very little experience with...theoretically. I thought it would be a great opportunity to study under an accomplished doctor who happened to be a Romulan as well.
In my brilliance, however, I managed to offend her on essentially every level possible to offend her and earned myself a night filled with frustration, insecurity and remorse. After what can only be described as a catastrophic introduction to my department head and the less-than-warm welcome from the rest of the crew I get to spend the rest of what may likely be my short life picking up the pieces of my career from the floor where they've been shattered and trampled on."
*There is a long silence in the log.*
"No doubt I'll have to talk to Commander Clerie and provide some measure of justification for my abhorrent behavior but what precisely am I supposed to say? 'Hi, I'm Kris and I'm trying to set the record for ending my own career and causing turmoil in the crew of a ship as fast as possible.' Ugh. Or perhaps 'Hi, I'm Kris and I'll be leaving now.' That would certainly be shorter.
Prophets guide me, give me some measure of wisdom over the next few days.
All I wanted to do was help people and study techniques and methods they aren't likely to teach in Starfleet Medical.
How did I make such a mess?"
*The log ends abruptly, no timestamp.*