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The Beauty of Uncertainty

Posted on Tue Sep 28th, 2010 @ 1:04am by Lieutenant Adam De Franco

Location: Earth, University of Blogna

Was it strange to feel out of place where one is so familiar with the surroundings? Many not but Adam felt strange he had been recalled from his posting at Starbase 57, a posting he had held for nearly four years. Four years of personal and private moments, friendships, heartaches and memories. But now just when he felt he was fitting into the grand design that he had built for himself over these past years had crumbled like a sand castle unable to withstand the recurrent waves of the ocean slowly but surely eroding the foundation that had been Starbase 57. He had arrived on Starbase 57 more commonly known as the “Old Hag”. Mainly because of its CO Vice Admiral Wales a woman in her mid 60’s who commanded the Starbase more like a general directing her forces into battle. Action and substances was all that matter to her, slip up and make a shipment late and you wouldn’t deal with a department head. If it reached up through the grapevine that you made it a habit of slight errors or time delays she would turbo lift down to your area and give you a verbal beating that left many young recruits in tears and even some junior officers ill for days.

He had learned his lesson the hard way of doing triple checks on regular cargo when he had been confronted by a woman with red hair streaked in with vivid white. To say he was shocked would be an understatement; he felt he was a confident young man with nearly 10 years in service with Starfleet, the Dominion war and several other skirmishes on his record. But on that Saturday afternoon his dedication and fire was smothered if not stamped out by one Vice Admiral Trilby Wales.

After the dressing down that he received in front of nearly thirty-eight other crewman he was barely able to finish his shift. The Vice Admiral was incensed that delays in repairs on her capital ship the USS Trudeau had meant she had been unable to monitor some peace accord in some backwards part of the galaxy. She demanded why fourteen crates of essential isolinar chips had been delayed for 45 minutes when the shipment had been cleared twice before by one Lt. De Franco. He had never stuttered in his life but at those critical sentences his words blurred together and his apology sounded like had been drinking non-synthale spirits.

Three years after the FUBAR that had been his first meeting with his CO, things had changed. He was finally a master in his own domain. He was on friendly terms with the now Admiral and she occasionally brought up their first meeting with others stating that she had never seen a junior officer jitter that badly at an authority figure. Even though it annoyed him that she continued with the story he allowed it, and by doing so it bought him a special place in the admiral heart making his career pick up to speed. In fact he had been hearing things from certain senior levels that he was being considered to replacing retiring Chief Operations Officer John Marlon. Instead he had received a message from an obscure bureaucrat informing him that it was necessary that he return to Earth and then depart for a new placement at a newly minted starbase.

To say he was enraged was putting it mildly, after screaming in rage and smashing a table into pieces he had been informed by a security officer that if he continued he could spend the next three days in the brig.

He returned to Earth and was immediately placed on a three day vacation to his hometown of Bologna. It wasn’t that he didn’t want vacation he loved taking R&R probably more so then most Starfleet officers but Bologna reminded him of his childhood and while he had been generally happy about his experiences with his parents he felt that now more than ever distance was crucial to keeping himself sane.

His parents had always piled on their expectations of him, his father on becoming a civic engineer, his mother with her constant debates of common law and civic law it was just enough to drive him insane. And as much as he’d like to get a few months off in a nice quite area he wasn’t sure how his reapplication to Starfleet Academy would look with a footnote about his mental instability.

He was sitting in the courtyard of the University of Bologna enjoying the sights and sounds of thousands of students walking by and talking in the way young people do, filled with hopes and dreams of their studies. It was nice to be in company of people who had almost no idea where their life would take them, after being out of school for nearly a decade he could feel the same uncertainty. When he was first enrolled in the University of Bologna his then girlfriend and told him that he was feeling something great she called it the beauty of uncertainty. The strangeness in not knowing what will happen tomorrow and not knowing what directions your life is taking. She said to enjoy it while it lasted because one day there wouldn’t be much uncertainty only certainty. Certainty that one day you would get stuck in a job and one day you would settle down have a family and die, that she said was certainty and it wasn’t much fun better to be uncertain of life and take it as it comes.

He smiled to himself remembering her strange but oddly comforting take on life; he had received a message from the same faceless bureaucrat informing him that he had been transferred to Deep Space Nine more commonly known as Roark Nor. It was a shock a former and from his memory derelict Cardassian starbase was being revamped into becoming a Federation starbase.

He felt strange again, the same feelings start to turn and burn in his stomach. He smiled to himself again it was time for the beauty of uncertainty.


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