Personal Log- 30 December 2155

Posted on Thu Aug 28th, 2025 @ 4:20pm by 2nd Lieutenant Jekebb ch’Bari

880 words; about a 4 minute read

Begin Dictation.

If there is one thing I have learned in life, it is that my Thavan, the General, does not ask, he declares. To him, dialogue is weakness, consultation a luxury for lesser men. He has always been that way, as long as I can remember. He enters a room, and you know immediately where the gravity pulls. And I, like a hapless asteroid, am expected to orbit without complaint.

Today, he came to me in my office at ASC. I knew something was about to hit me the moment the door chime sounded. General Therris th’Bari is not a man who visits for pleasantries, least of all to see me. My section was running efficiently. My officers respected me, my work had meaning. For the first time in years, I was not merely living under the shadow of my father’s reputation, I was carving out something of my own. Or so I thought.

I can still see the way he carried himself. Even in a simple Guard tunic, he seemed to wear the weight of Andoria’s history across his shoulders. Tall, broad, that one cold eye always searching for weakness, it is no wonder the Parliament leans on him as often as they do. To them, he is the perfect warrior: unbending, uncompromising, unwilling to suffer the hesitation of others. To me, he is something else entirely.

He didn’t ask how I was, or how the refit department was performing. He didn’t ask about my team, or my own ambitions. He came with an announcement already sharpened on his tongue, like the edge of his ushaan-tor.

“I’ve put your name forward,” he said.

The words hung in the air like frost.

“Forward for what?” I asked, though I already knew.

He smiled. Not warmly, never warmly, but with the satisfaction of a man setting the final stone in a foundation he has been building for years. “An exchange post aboard an Earth starship.”

I felt my antennae pull back, stiff with incredulity. An Earth ship? Human command, Human culture, Human chaos. I have no desire to leave Andoria, let alone serve under the command of an alien captain whose methods are untested and whose ship is as much experiment as it is vessel. My place is here, among my people, where my skills serve Andoria first.

I wanted to tell him no. To tell him that I had built something meaningful here. That I was content in a way I had not been since I was a cadet at Laikan. That I had no interest in chasing Earth’s grand experiment into the stars.

But I did not get the chance.

Before I could speak, he produced the orders. A crisp datapad, official seals glaring up at me. My name, my transfer, my promotion. Second Lieutenant, Imperial Guard. Not a gift, not a reward, but a transaction. My future, mortgaged to his political ambitions.

He did not ask if I wanted this. He did not ask if I was ready. He told me it would be “for the family’s benefit.” As if my life is not my own, but another weapon in his arsenal, another bargaining chip for the Bari clan.

And then, as swiftly as he came, he left. My words died on my tongue, unspoken, unheeded.

Now, sitting here, I feel… hollow. I should be proud. A promotion is no small thing, even in a family like mine. My instructors at Laikan would tell me to seize this as an opportunity, a chance to prove Andorian excellence among our new Coalition allies. But all I feel is anger, simmering just beneath the surface, tightly wound around my ribs like iron bands.

Anger at being used. Anger at being dismissed. Anger at myself, for not speaking when I had the chance.

I remember when my Shreya died. I wanted to leave the Academy, to come home, to grieve with my family. To honor her memory as we are meant to. But he made me stay for my graduation. He said the clan’s honor demanded it. That duty was a higher calling than grief. That one life, even hers, could not weigh more than the future of our house.

I thought I had buried my resentment then, poured it into my studies, my work. But it lingers, alive and sharp, and today it cut me open again.

Now I am bound for Earth. Bound to serve under strangers, in an alien command structure, surrounded by people who will never understand the weight of what it means to be his son. To be Andorian. The General sees advantage in this. I see exile.

Perhaps I am being unfair. Perhaps there is merit in the mission, honor in representing my people among our new allies. Perhaps this is the universe testing me in ways I cannot yet understand. But tonight, in the silence of my quarters, I cannot help but feel robbed.

Robbed of choice. Robbed of peace. Robbed of the quiet satisfaction I had found in my work.

I do not know what lies ahead aboard this Human vessel. I only know that I did not choose it. And perhaps that is what stings most of all.

End log.

RSS Feed