Brigid's Log

This is my first log entry from my new quarters aboard the Deborah Sampson.  Before I say more about her, I should say a little about the workshop that just ended.

I attended along with a group of other ensigns, most of whom had fought at Vega, and all of whom were chosen to command a ship of their own.  Like the Deborah Sampson, those ships were all Constitutions—not the refit that almost everyone has seen, but the original version that goes back to the mid-twenty-third century.

Like all of us, the ships were something of an experiment.  Starfleet’s Advanced Research Concepts Division—where Brigid (my namesake) worked for a little while before retiring—used some very interesting technology—nanoprobes based on Borg designs, about 80 or 90 nanometers across, with some limited self-replication ability, coordinated by nodes that were more in the 500 nanometer range, numbering about 500 trillion per ship, once everything was said and done…where was I?  Right, ARC used these nanprobes to update each ship.  Inside, they’re completely modern.  Outside, they look exactly as they did a century and a half ago.

The seminar was, I think, partly to familiarize ourselves with some of the technical details.  I’m still reading through a lot of the information they gave us.  There are also a range of special procedures to follow if we detect any residual nanoprobles on board.  It’s unlikely but not impossible.  Each ship, depending on the availability of personnel, will also have a special adjunct engineer on board—a liberated Borg who’ll have more in-depth knowledge of the refit process.

At the same time, I think they wanted the group of us who were taking command of these new ships to get to know one another.

I still want to know who’s going to read these logs.  Is this a diary, just for me?  Will people be reading entries sequentially?  Or mining them for information?

Well, if you’ve read any of my entries, you probably have a sense that I’m not always good with people, and that’s especially true in groups.  Luckily there were a few of those types, the ones that are natural leaders, there.  I could spend a lot of my time focusing on learning the technical side of things while they handled the social.

That said, I did meet some interesting people.  I know, it shocked me too.  I may even add them to my letter writing rotation.  In particular, there was Rynwon.  She’s an Ea, not a species I was familiar with, but that didn’t seem to matter.  She was easy to talk to, almost as though we were old friends.  It was strange, for me at least.  She was…well, I guess the best word to describe it is open.  There was none of the complex interpersonal management or negotiation that’s typically required.

The other person I mentioned was, and is, more of a puzzle.  His name was Patrick O’Kennedy and, at first, I really didn’t like him.  He was friendly, even charming, but almost too charming.  I’ve met people like him and they’re always very popular and everyone things very highly of them, even when I don’t see why, but I find there’s something hard about them, like a rock wall.  Most of the time, when you really get to know them, they’re not very nice.  Or maybe that’s just my resentment over their ease around other people.

But as we three talked more—and we did form a subgroup, eating together, relaxing in the lounge together, sitting together in the workshop—I saw him differently.  I’m not sure if that was a change in him or in me, but it felt as if he softened somewhat, became more genuine.  Could be that some of Rynwon rubbed off on him.  I can’t say.  It was fun to watch the two of them trade verses of poetry, almost like a competition.

One funny and I’m sure unplanned part of the workshop: It was lead by a photonic officer named Park.  He’d been originally written as a ship-design aide, but had achieved sentience.  When he stepped to the front of the room on the first day, it looked for a moment as if he were in a transporter beam—do photonics even use transporters?—and then, instead of him, we were all looking at James Kirk.  It turns out that someone had hacked into Park’s subroutines and altered his appearance.  Rynwon was convinced that Patrick had something to do with that, but I don’t see how she could know.  Ultimately, I think even Park enjoyed his new persona.  He looked a little disappointed after he dismissed us all on the last day and he changed back to his original self.

Maybe I’m speaking for myself, but aren’t we all?

Speaking of appearances, I wanted to say one final thing.  Before arriving on board, I looked up this ship’s namesake.  She was a human woman who participated in a conflict called the American Revolution.  Apparently, at that time on Earth, or at least in that part of it, women weren’t allowed in the military.  So she dressed up as a man to fight.  It’s a little odd to think, in this day and age, having to change who you are in order to do something you want to do.  But, maybe that’s not true.  Maybe all of us are caught between who we are and who we want to be.

And that’s a clear sign I need to get some sleep.  From here on out, I’m leaving the deep thoughts to Rynwon.

Admiral Quinn told me that, in the past, Starfleet wouldn’t have considered someone as inexperienced as me for command.  But times have changed.  I’m still not sure whether to take this as a compliment or an insult.

I’m also still uncertain about the new orders the Admiral gave Sayvok and I.  He mentioned a ship called the Deborah Sampson.  I did a little research.  That ship was commissioned in 2265—144 standard years ago!  At the time, she was state of the art, even among the others of her class, but for the last 80 years, she’s been used to haul low-priority cargo between Earth and Vulcan.  If this is what Starfleet offers to those it’s impressed with, I don’t want to disappoint them.

In any event, I’ll be enjoying—if that’s the right word—the view from the center chair for a longer than I expected.  It’s an opportunity to serve and a chance to accomplish something, and I’m glad for that, though I’ll miss the concrete work down in engineering.  I always thought I’d rise through the ranks at a moderate pace, be a chief engineer some day.  The galaxy seems to be falling apart, though, and taking daydreams like that with it.

From a more positive perspective, the galaxy needs people who, as my father used to say (and still does), can take a slug (that is, symbiont).  Drives my mother crazy, which is why, I’m sure, he still says it.  There is something inspiring about command.  I can’t deny that.  Perhaps I’ll change my mind when I am confronted with all the paperwork.

My major concern now is what to say at the memorial service.  The fact that I’ll be leaving the Dublin Bay just makes it more complex, or at least it feels that way.  This isn’t my area of expertise, in case that hasn’t already become apparent.  Who reads these personal logs anyway?  I could ask my mother.  She’d know precisely how to address the crew.  I should contact my parents soon in any event, to tell them the good news.  For some reason, though, I’m hesitating.  Maybe I need to figure this out on my own.  I’ll talk them after the service.

Finally, I wanted to say to whoever is listening to this, that Ensign Sayvok has been a great help so far and I’ll glad he’s been transferred with me.  I’ve never spent much time with Vulcans.  Some of the other Trill on Umea thought highly of them.  A few of the humans found their relentless logic insufferable.  At present, we are getting along well.  In the few spare moments I’ve had, I have wondered where to from here.  Maybe a deep space survey ship someday, in which case working with Sayvok might be a bonus.  The only concern I have is that his lack of a sense of humor might bother me, once everything has calmed down.  If it ever does.

As someone said to me on graduation day at the Academy, welcome to the final frontier.

I’ve just returned from Spacedock and a conversation with Admiral Quinn.  I’ve been promoted to Lieutenant and will be leaving the Dublin Bay, along with Ensign Sayvok.  We’ve been selected to participate in a new project involving pre-refit Constitution class cruisers.  I’ll be taking command of the Deborah Sampson, currently undergoing some substantial updating.  We’ll be reporting to the Academy tomorrow to learn more.  As my last act as captain of the Dublin Bay, I’ve arranged a memorial service this afternoon for lost crewmembers to be held in one of the large observation lounges.