The real world doesn’t always adhere to logic. Sometimes down is up. Sometimes up is down. Sometimes when you’re lost, you’re found.
Sometimes, the only way to find out where you fit in is to step out of the routine, because sometimes where you really belong was waiting right around the corner all along.
Can you bury your heart? Can you hide your decency? Can you continue to pretend to be one of them? Even as, little by little, it kills the person you really are.
From my youth on Vulcan, I was raised to believe that service was my purpose. And I carried that conviction to Starfleet. I dreamed of a day when I would command my own vessel, and further the noble objectives of this great institution. That dream is over. The only ship I know in ruins. My crew… gone. My captain… my friend. I wanted to protect them from war, from the enemy. And now we are at war and I am the enemy.
Words define who we are. Officer. Orphan. Widower. Shipmate. But there is no word for the unique agony of uncertainty.
We’re all human here. We all start out with the same drives, the same needs. Maybe none of us, no matter what world we’re from, really know what darkness is waiting inside.