Nothing to See Here

Posted on 31 Jul 2022 @ 6:19pm by Chief Warrant Officer 3 Alexion Wylde

474 words; about a 2 minute read

ON:

"So, I healed the cut and sent the Petty Officer on his way," Alexion spoke at the screen that was recording his log. He fell into an awkward silence, his clasped hands in his lap.

He pursed his lips and glanced around, as if something else would fill the gap if he waited long enough.

"Because that is my job," he added with a matter of fact tone, his shoulder moving in a motion close to a shrug. "That is what...doctors...do...."

Alexion finally sighed and shook his head, rubbing his temple with the side of his thumb in a sign of irritation. "What is the point of this?" he finally asked out loud, as if he might get a response.

"What is the point of recording my daily actions in a log? I don't understand. Is this some strange human kink I cannot comprehend? Or a chance for them to boast about the most boring exploits ever catalogued by a civilisation? Does it make them feel more appreciated? Or did it come from vulcans? Do they use it to confirm to themselves how right they are every day before bed? Because to me, this just seems like one big waste of time.

"Is it a legacy thing? Do they really think that anyone in this vast universe full of mystery and spectacle will be the least bit interested in the scraped knee they fixed? Or the computer console they successfully adjusted the brightness on? Or the Ensign that flirted with them whilst they fixed their replicator? Or the dinner they cooked from scratch like the hero of real cooking that nobody asked for?

"Or is it a narcissistic thing? Do they not hear the sound of their own voice and opinions enough through every minute of every day, so they have to repeat it all over again? Because I do...I hear them more than enough..."

Alexion sat back, his entire expression the very picture of 'unimpressed', an eyebrow arched scathingly. "Is this what happens to a society when they don't have priests?" he crossed his arms impatiently. "Instead of baring their souls to a trained priest, they turn it all inwards and have to talk to themselves, about themselves, every day on this thing instead? That is...really quite disturbing..."

He shook his head as he looked away, making a tsk sound, sighing heavily at the prospect. "If that is the case, I don't think there are enough counsellors on this ship," he murmured.

Alexion rubbed his face with rough hands, letting out a long, tight breath. And if he was getting so worked up over something really so unimportant, then he needed to find his own solution to the problem. "Enough, computer, end personal log, right now," he demanded tersely, pushing himself up and away from the desk.

OFF:

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