Post 205 Hell Hath No Fury

Stardate: 70601.1400
Title: Hell Hath No Fury
Author: Lt. (jg) Micah Samson
Scene: Personal Quarters
Time: Following "To The Rescue"
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Personal Log, Lieutenant Junior Grade Micah Samson, Science Officer, USS Independence.

How strange it sounds to hear the name of the flagship in the heading of my personal log entries now.

Even stranger, and unbelievably sick and twisted to me is that I am standing here, readying my kit for my first Away mission with the knowledge that my first official duty aboard the Indy will be to return to, of all places, Bajor. I just left, not two weeks ago. Fourteen days.

Why didn't anyone listen to me? I told them that this was going to happen.

When I was working at the Embassy for the past twelve long months, I spent all my time trying to convince the Bajoran government, and Starfleet, that the planet was too vulnerable in its post-occupation recovery.

Please, I begged them. Invest the resources of time and manpower to fix this gaping hole in the planet's security. Demand that Starfleet help you erect a weather modification net. Now. Don't wait.

Alarmist, they called me. Been 'centuries since Bajor had suffered any serious weather-related catastrophes they insisted.

My research, my charts, my maps of areas most likely to be hit, all disregarded. Cast aside and filed in the bottom of some disused filing cabinet in the cellar of the Science Ministry's condemned building, which by now is likely a pile of rubble.

Much like the villages on the Takesian Plains.

They wouldn't even let me speak to the Vedek Assembly, who surely would have taken the health and well being of the people more seriously than the politicians did. Wouldn't they?

I chose the Independence assignment because I wanted to work under Lt. Lily T'Ana, expert in her field and legend on the planet I grew up on, Risa. Now I hear she's not even going on the first mission so to work with her, I'll have to wait awhile longer.

I still cannot believe this- first job out of the gate, and the acting CO is sending me back to Bajor. Damn it.

Sending me back to that gentle and beautiful world to look upon my worst nightmare brought to fruition. To see the devastation that I warned them was coming, sooner than they wanted to believe. Only it's real. It's all real.

Maybe I was better off charting comets on Gilmore's old ship, the Worthington. Maybe letting boredom and the siren's call to adventure get the better of me is a decision that I made in haste and will repent from at leisure.

How can I look into the faces of the people of Bajor, when I couldn't save them from this? I tried, God, how I tried. I tried so hard. I hope that they'll understand that.

The people with the power just wouldn't listen. Now they will have to answer to everyone for their inaction. They let their concern for the fiscal bottom line, and protecting the natural resources of the region involved, come before the lives of their people. You'd expect that kind of backward thinking four hundred years ago, maybe, but not now. You'd never expect it now.

I just can't wait to get this over with, get back to the ship, and get the hell away from Bajor. I'll be locking myself up tight in the astrometrics lab and somehow, I'll have to learn to live with this. We will all have to learn to live with what we are going to see down on the planet.

I've heard the others talking as the Away Teams are preparing for deployment, and I have a feeling that most of them, growing up as I did on weather modified planets have no idea what they are in for down there. Maybe I should've listened to Mom and Dad, given in to the human desire for hedonism and gone into private medical practice back home on Risa, just like they chose to do after they left Earth. Maybe.

If hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, then the universe has seen no destruction more total and cruel than that brought on by the most famous, angry woman ever known- Mother Nature.

God help us all.

End Log.

Lt. Micah Samson
Science Officer
USS Independence