USS Scorpio

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Upsides and Downsides

Posted on Wed Mar 14th, 2018 @ 4:58pm by Lieutenant Charles McCullen

Personal log, Stardate 65012.2

So I got my new orders today, I've been expecting them for the past couple of days and I know Darys has too, we've been avoiding the subject, mostly, but I can tell by how clingy he's been... not that I mind, heh.

I've been assigned to the USS Scorpio, an Ascension class carrier. On the plus side, she's freakin' huge and state of the art and I'm gonna be the chief flight control officer. I've been waiting for a posting like this for ages, it seems, but there's a downside, too. The Scorpio is way the hell out in the Gamma Quadrant. I mean, I guess I'll be back at Bajor or DS9 fairly regularly, but for most of the time I'll be on the other side of the wormhole... the temple, according to Darys.

I know he's been hoping I'd get assigned to DS9, and I suppose I could have pulled strings with my mom and sorted it out, but that's no good for anyone. He'd end up feeling guilty for tying me down, I know it. I'm a pilot, I need to be on a starship, not stuck on a station, I'd die of boredom. As much as I love him, I can't give up my future. Of course, it's the same for him, I know he'd follow me to wherever if I asked him to, but he's got his own future on Bajor to think about.

Woe-is-me, right? Commander Jarl would've slapped me upside the head and told me "suck it up, kiddo!" He's not wrong, we both know that this comes part-and-parcel with Starfleet life. We're gonna be apart more often than we're together. I've got three days before I ship out for New Bajor, I just have to make sure that three days is enough time to get us squared away, to get my head outta my ass and get on with doing the job I've been given. I'm going from an Intrepid class all the way up to a huge-ass carrier. More than a kilometer long, half a kilometer wide, the thing is a beast. It's gonna be an interesting challenge, to say the least, it should be fun. I just hope I don't get stuck with another by-the-book spit-and-polish type. I don't wanna cut my hair, again.

Oh, hey there, love. Gimmie a minute, I've got some news you're not gonna like. End personal log.

 

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