Today I made Captain, and shortly thereafter was awarded the helm of a new ship – the U.S.S. Miskatonic.
She’s a long range science vessel, of the Intrepid class. Well, mostly Intrepid class – the main hull is of the new Discovery class, but the rest of the ship is pure Intrepid.
Some of my colleagues have remarked upon my continuing to accept commissions on science vessels, since I do have a more tactical background and might feel more at home on the bridge of a faster, more powerful ship. While that may be true, to some extent, I prefer the feel of the science ships. They may not be as flashy, but they’ve got it where it counts.
And, really – isn’t exploration and the accumulation of knowledge the founding tenants of both Starfleet and the Federation of Planets? Aren’t we all supposed to be striving to make ourselves better, rather than blowing up everyone else in the sky?
Lately, I’ve been doing all too much of that – spending what seems like ages in Romulan space, sending the shattered fragments of the Romulant Star Empire – and the fledgling Reeman whatever they are – to their untimely deaths. Many of my crew see this as a necessary precaution, having grown up in a time of war. But I remember before – before the war, even before the Romulan Empire fell.
I shouldn’t remember that – I’m not much older than most of my crew. But here I am, sitting in The Big Chair, decades away from my home time. Not through anything Temporal Affairs would be interested in – I went the long way, via cryo-sleep. Damn the Borg, damn them for robbing me of my friend and family, of taking me from Copernicus Station that fateful day…
For turning me into something other than human, but less than normal.
But, no – today is a good day. A day of celebration – The Miskatonic is mine to command.
This should be a grand old voyage, indeed.