A pilot's license. My kingdom for a pilot's license.

The day started out just fine for once. A leisurely breakfast, a little diaper instruction if with unusual results. Note to self: using the replicator as a biofilter for diaper changing does not work very well. A quick drink with the counsellor, who was quite celebratory considering she was fresh on the ship. Well, I don't blame her, first postings are always exciting to new cadets. I mean, I've been to enough of the Academy's shipping out parties. At some of them I was even a guest rather than the entertainment. At least she didn't make too much of a fool of herself and did a reasonable job with the new crewman.

The new crewman, Lieutenant Milton Dammers. Where to begin. I was so excited when I found out he'd served with my mom. I mean, I've never met anyone who'd served with my mom. And mom never wanted to talk about it, not in person, not in those miserably edited letters sent via Starfleet. I couldn't even find anything out from my brother when he let me go after our father was... But this isn't the place for that. About Dammers, I guess I came on a little strong for someone who'd been left for 20 years in cryo. Still, a panicked response wasn't what I'd expected. Mind you, I've never been in cryo, so I suppose I have nothing but a textbook knowledge of the subject. Everyone has their own differences and in my capacity as ship's medical officer I'll make a note of this for his protection in the future. I can't have the poor man go through a hell like that again.

Now, if only I knew how to fly. Seriously. Then I wouldn't be stuck in a shuttlecraft with someone I seriously dislike ferrying a stupid bottle of goop to a stiff tailed admiral. Since when did my job description include courier anyway? I think I despise Commander t'Resan. What a moron.

At least it'll be a short trip, I think I'd claw her eyes out if I had to put up with her for too long much less in an enclosed area.