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[2381] Azrin Ryn, Personal Logs

April 24, 2381
2312 hrs.

[ Lt. JG Azrin Ryn | Personal Quarters | Deck 16 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ]

Personal Log: Stardate 57670.63

When I was just starting out at the Academy, one of the upperclassmen told me - dead seriously, with a completely straight face - that Starfleet regulations required officers to write a personal log every day. Long, exceptionally detailed logs, accounting for every second of said day. This information was offered a bit too freely and too sincerely, so I doubted it was true. Cadet Azrin Asix might have looked young, naive, and unworldly, but I was an excellent bullshitter. Takes one to know one. But I never actually checked the regs to see if it was true, because the uncertainty provided great motivation. Otherwise I’d get caught up in some side project and never log at all. So sorry, if any future historian gets assigned my logs, because there are a lot of them.


There was a rustling noise in the background, small clicks of metal on metal, the beep of a tricorder. Obviously, Azrin had reached her limit of sitting still and was fiddling with something during the recording.

But I’m regretting not looking up the rules now. Is there some sort of automated reprimand that goes on your record when you haven’t logged in six months?

And I know, I know. “That’s ridiculous Azrin! You were in stasis, no one is going to be mad that you didn’t log while in stasis. Go to a counselor!” But I’ve been out for days now, and everytime I sit down to do this I end up deleting it a few seconds in. Personal logs are supposed to be truthful. For historical record. That’s why they’re sealed and private until you die, and only after with permission. So people will know what it was really like. I haven’t been overly worried about that for the past few years. You can probably tell, exactly the point where I stopped logging daily. Journaling my life wasn’t important after I was joined. Everything I am, the memories and experiences that make me me, they’re going to live on. In a much fuller and more complete way than I can ever dictate to the computer.

That’s part of the reason I went back to Initiate training after the Dominion War, and went all in this time. I felt small. I’d missed out on life experiences because they weren’t important enough to focus on at the time. If I died, I’d vanish without leaving a mark anywhere. Joining was a relief from that worry. Part of me would be eternal. If you want Trill society to remember you, don’t write your biography, entrust your memories to a symbiont.

I almost died. Really died. Ryn too. It would be ok if I died- as long as the symbiont moved on. That I’m totally prepared for. But almost losin–

Shit!


The recording went silent as the tricorder’s beeping started up again, the frequency much more urgent and frantic. Azrin could be heard muttering under her breath, the words too low to pick up on the microphone. Clearly her project was finicky and had gone wrong.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Silence.


Ah ha! There you go Connie. All better. A little flight test later and– still recording. Right. Uh, where was I? Actually never mind, the mood got so grim in here that my model starship nearly exploded. Seems like a good time for brighter topics.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Or not! End log!

 
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