The Tenth Voice -
The Journal of Orzal Dax.

James is absolutely delighted to be joining me on a trip to Trill in a week’s time. We’ll begin our visit at the Caves of Mak’ala before heading on to the capital , Leran Manev. I’ve arranged an apartment in one of the tallest buildings in the city so he can enjoy a sweeping view of the skyline—an unforgettable introduction to Trill for someone who’s never set foot there before. He’s already buzzing with excitement. According to his wife, Jean, he’s even started setting things aside for packing. Steady on, James. We’re not leaving for another week.

My colleague Claire, who works in the main administration team for the colony, is a self‑proclaimed cheeseaholic — and honestly, she wears the title with pride. I enjoy a good mature cheese myself now and then, especially a Trill variety from the Homeworld called Yunroa, which Claire insists is nothing short of transcendent. Today she stopped by my office with a delicately wrapped gift: a cheese she wanted me to try called Stichelton. It’s a renowned English raw‑milk blue made at the Welbeck Estate in Nottinghamshire, England , Earth, crafted from organic Friesian‑Holstein cow’s milk. Remarkably, it’s been produced continuously for 467 years. And it is absolutely delightful. I’m genuinely grateful she thought of me — and even more grateful for colleagues who know exactly how to brighten a day.

I’ve been feeling the familiar pull of home again—the quiet reminder that the Caves of Mak’ala are more than a sacred site; they’re a conversation between past and present. Dax has returned there many times, but each host hears that call differently. For me, this visit feels overdue. Ranih would have come with me in a heartbeat, but her current commitments won’t allow her to step away. She insisted I go anyway, and she’s right—some journeys can’t be postponed. As I planned the trip, I realized I didn’t want to make it alone. James kept coming to mind. His curiosity has a gentleness to it, the kind that would meet the Caves not as a spectacle but as a living memory. I can already picture him taking in the glow of the pools with that quiet focus of his. I think the Keepers would appreciate him. I suspect the symbionts would, too. So I’ve decided to invite him. Nothing ceremonial—just a simple offer to share a piece of my world. A walk through Mak’ala. A few days in Leran Manev afterward....

Despite the medical facilities here on Docosie being advanced and more than capable of handling routine symbiont care, the Symbiosis Commission still insists on sending someone from the homeworld to check up on any joined Trill living off‑world on Docosie III. At present, that means me — the lone datapoint in their grand survey of “Trill living dangerously far from home.” I don’t object to the checkups themselves. They’re sensible, and Dax has lived long enough to know that a little preventative care is far easier than a medical crisis. What I do object to is the attitude of the specialist they sent this time. From the moment they stepped off the shuttle, it was clear they’d already formed an opinion about my life out here — and not a flattering one. According to them, joined Trill “really shouldn’t” live at a significant distance from the homeworld. Too risky. Too destabilising. Too far from the cultural and medical infrastructure that supposedly keeps us whole. They didn’t say it unk...

Today in the central complex, we had an unfortunate incident. I happened to be there with James and Ranih, simply enjoying a coffee. A group of friends nearby were having what seemed like a pleasant gathering—chatting, laughing, sipping their drinks. Nothing out of the ordinary. But then the tone shifted. Voices rose, gestures sharpened, and whatever they were debating clearly struck a nerve. I didn’t catch the exact topic, but it escalated quickly. Insults began to fly. Rude comments followed. For a moment, it even looked as though things might turn physical. Thankfully, a few members of the group who weren’t involved in the argument stepped in and managed to calm everyone down before it went any further. Across nine lifetimes, I’ve witnessed scenes like this more times than I can count. It’s sobering how, despite all the progress we make and all the wisdom we accumulate, every species still carries the same duality: a fierce passion for what we believe in, and—sadly—a deep resentment...

James and I spent the afternoon in the hangar, looking over the Kestrel. He’s convinced we’re close enough now that we should just commit and finish the restoration. I could see it in the way he kept circling her — that engineer’s itch that won’t let go once a project is within reach. Truth is, the idea hit me harder than I expected. I’ve treated the Kestrel like a long-term curiosity, something to tinker with between responsibilities. But hearing James say, “We could get her spaceworthy,” stirred something old and familiar in me. We went over the remaining work: dampeners, impulse manifold, a few stubborn relays. Manageable. And when he asked if I’d take her up for the inaugural flight — even just a short loop around the Docosie system — I realized how much I want that. To feel a small ship come alive under my hands again. To earn that moment. So I told him yes. We’re finishing her. And when she’s ready, I’ll be the one to take her out. It feels good to look forward to a flight. ...

I don’t mind at all—honestly, it’s been lovely to watch James and Bahjaar get on so well. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if they stay in touch after Bahjaar returns to duty aboard the Serenity. They’re actually coming to collect him tomorrow. It’s been good having him here. Spending this time together has reassured me that he’s steady, grounded, and ready for whatever comes next. I’m confident he’ll be just fine moving forward. “If you want happiness for a lifetime—help someone else.”   — Chinese proverb Picture by Stanislav Ivanitskiy. Unsplash.com.

Whilst Bahjaar is staying with me and Ranih, I’m doing everything I can to help him adjust to life as a newly joined Trill. I remember what it was like for Ezri—how her friends, colleagues, even her own family suddenly didn’t quite know her the way they used to once she was joined. That kind of shift can be disorienting for everyone involved. So I’m genuinely grateful that they reached out to me for support, especially considering the complicated history Dax and Vox once had before things were finally resolved back in 2407. It means a lot that they trusted me with this. Bahjaar feels he’ll be ready to return to duty by the end of the week, and he’ll stay in touch of course. His ship will be picking him up, which means I’ll get the chance to see—and briefly step aboard—the USS Serenity, a Vesta‑class starship much like the Aventine that Ezri once commanded. I have to admit, I’m looking forward to that.

Our esteemed Governor, Maura, has graciously given me some time away from my usual duties so I can help Bahjaar find his footing as a very young host. I’m not entirely sure if he’s the youngest joined Trill on record, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he is. He can draw on Deezell’s experiences, of course, but joining is never the same journey twice—especially for someone who was never an initiate, never trained, and never imagined their life would take this turn. Waking up on an operating table with the memories and personalities of not only yourself and your symbiont, but every previous host as well… it can be overwhelming. I remember how it was for me—Ezri—when my own destiny shifted aboard the Destiny, quite literally. I was fortunate. I had Benjamin, Kira, O’Brien, Worf, Jake, Odo, Garak, and Quark to steady me, guide me, and remind me who I was becoming. So I’ll be that presence for Bahjaar. He won’t walk this path alone. Image by Aron Visuals - Unsplash. 

I wrapped up the last of my work on the orbital platform and headed down to my home office, with Bahjaar accompanying me.   When I arrived, I spotted James outside his place—apparently he had the day off.   I introduced him to Bahjaar and shared the sad news about Deezell’s passing, explaining that Bahjaar is now the new host.   The two of them immediately fell into a lively conversation about engineering, so I invited James over for a coffee with Bahjaar—on the strict condition that I could finish my remaining work without interruptions.   So far, they’re both in my back garden, deep in discussion and enjoying themselves.

Today was a sad day—made stranger by the way the news reached me. I was sitting behind my desk this morning when I was notified that someone had arrived at the Orbital Station asking specifically for me. Curious and a little uneasy, I headed down to the docking bay. Waiting there was the youngest Trill Starfleet Ensign I think I’ve ever seen. For a moment I wondered if Starfleet had quietly lowered the age requirement. Before I could finish introducing myself, he smiled—soft, knowing—and said: “It’s okay, Dax. I know. It’s me, Vox.” And in that instant, I understood. My dear friend Deezell was gone. Standing before me was the new host of the Vox symbiont, who introduced himself as Bahjaar. Like Ezri once did—and like Deezell had, he’d been joined under urgent circumstances, the only Trill available, the symbiont’s health at risk. He’s taken a leave of absence to spend some time with me, to adjust, to find his footing in this new life. Fortunately, my home has a spare room. The next few...

Back home at last, sipping coffee with friends in the central complex and pretending I’m not already plotting my next adventure. Back to work tomorrow, but honestly, that’s hardly a tragedy. There’s plenty waiting for me—enough to keep me busy, entertained, and only slightly out of trouble. Emphasis on slightly. I’ll rummage through my calendar later to see what chaos, excitement, or general nonsense I’ve signed myself up for next. Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash unsplash.com

We’ll be arriving home tomorrow morning at around 09:30, Docosie III local time. Once we disembark, we’ll catch the shuttle down to the surface and make our way back home, finally able to settle in after the journey. We’ve already arranged to meet James and Jean for dinner tomorrow evening. We’ll head to the Central Complex, where the four of us can wander among the endless choices and each pick whatever calls to us from the maze of restaurants and food stalls. Tonight, though, Ranih and I are treating ourselves to Klingon cuisine—something hearty and bold to mark the end of our travels—before heading back to the holodeck for an Escape Room program to unwind and have a bit of fun together.

Our transport was rerouted to respond to a distress call from a nearby Communication Relay Station suffering a critical power failure. From what I’ve gathered, we arrived just in time—rescuing two stranded Starfleet officers mere moments before the station went completely dark. On the return leg, the transport will drop them at Starbase 207, where they’ll coordinate an engineering team to head back and restore the station’s systems. Our arrival back at Docosie III shouldn’t be impacted. Not that we’re in any particular hurry—sometimes a detour like this feels like the universe nudging us to lend a hand.

Our transport slipped out of Ferenginar’s orbit a few hours ago. We’re at warp now, heading back toward Docosie III, with a handful of other stops scattered along the route. The hum of the engines feels almost meditative tonight. Seeing Rom and Leeta again… I didn’t realise how much I’d missed them until they were standing right in front of me. Eighty years is a long time to let pass. As Ezri—first on the Aventine, then as Commodore—I kept telling myself I’d visit “when things calmed down.” They never did. I should have gone anyway. “Make Time, Save Time Whilst Time Lasts.   All Time is No Time When Time is Past.” That old saying hit harder than I expected. It’s made me think about others I haven’t seen in just as long. Each host is supposed to live their own life, not cling to the past… but some connections don’t care about rules or lifetimes. They just stay. It’s getting late, and the stars outside are starting to blur together. I’ll let my mind wander over all this tomorrow...

I picked up a bottle of Slug‑o Cola today. Not for myself—gods know I’ve learned that lesson—but for James. The idea struck me while I was passing the vendor stall. The bottle was sitting there like some relic from a bygone era, the kind of thing only a Trill with more curiosity than sense would drink. Naturally, I thought of him. Not because he’d enjoy it, but because the look on his face would be priceless. I laughed to myself the entire walk back. There is, frankly, a very good chance he won’t be impressed. Humans can be so dramatic about texture, and Slug‑o has… well, texture. But that’s half the fun. James tries so hard to be gracious about these cultural exchanges, even when they border on questionable. I admire that about him, even if I also enjoy testing the limits of his diplomacy. Still, it’s a gift. A sincere one, in its own odd way. A little piece of home, wrapped in mischief. If he hates it, I’ll pretend to be shocked. If he pretends to like it, I’ll know he’s lying. Eithe...

I didn’t expect today to feel quite so much like stepping back into the 2370s, but that’s the thing about Rom—he collapses time without even trying. He hasn’t really changed. The robes are fancier now, and a small entourage trails after him with datapads and anxious expressions, but the heart is the same one that once beat nervously behind a maintenance uniform on Deep Space Nine. We spent the afternoon catching up in his office—if you can call a room full of sentimental knickknacks, half‑finished engineering projects, and at least three framed pictures of Leeta an “office.” My fiancé listened with amused patience as Rom and I drifted back through memories that belong to more than one lifetime. Jadzia’s laughter echoed through me when he told the story of the time she beat him at Tongo so thoroughly he considered banning the game from Quark’s.   Ezri’s warmth surfaced when he mentioned how she helped him prepare his first speech as union leader.   And through it all,...

I know I say this a lot, but I genuinely mean it this time: in all nine of my lifetimes, never—not once—has anyone so brazenly approached me and attempted to offer me Gold‑Pressed Latinum for my fiancée. And yet… today, it happened. There I was, minding my own business, when this Ferengi sidled up with the confidence of someone who’s never read a single line of Federation law, and made what he clearly believed was a perfectly reasonable proposal. As if I’d just hand over the love of my life like she’s a rare vintage of Tulaberry wine. I’m still not sure whether to be offended, impressed, or concerned for the state of interstellar etiquette. Probably all three. But one thing is certain: Ranih is worth more than the entire vaults of the Ferengi Commerce Authority, and the fact that someone thought they could buy her… well, that’s going in the log.

There are few constants in the galaxy. Stars are born, empires rise, fashions change, and at some point in every century someone insists they’ve reinvented the humble burger. After nine lifetimes, I’ve seen more variations than I can comfortably list without a glass of springwine in hand. I’ve watched chefs on Trill argue—passionately—over whether a burger should be stacked vertically or arranged as a “deconstructed conceptual experience.” I’ve eaten one on Vulcan that was so logical it barely tasted like anything at all. I’ve had a Klingon chef slap a slab of still‑twitching meat between two halves of a fire‑charred bun and call it “fusion cuisine.” I’ve even survived a Ferengi “value burger,” which is a story for another day and preferably after a medical checkup. But today… today was a first. Tube grubs.   On a burger. I’ve lived through wars, weddings, wormhole anomalies, and one regrettable poetry phase, but nothing prepared me for the moment the server placed that plate ...

We slipped into orbit around Ferenginar early this morning. The spaceport was packed—no surprise, really. Word had clearly spread about our arrival, and with Grand Nagus Rom and Leeta coming to greet us personally, the whole place erupted into a lively commotion. Seeing them again was… grounding. They’ve both aged since the last time I saw them as Ezri—eighty years is a long stretch, even for a Trill. Once Ezri took command of the Aventine, it became harder and harder to stay connected with old friends, no matter how much we meant to. All that aside, standing there with Rom and Leeta again felt wonderful. Familiar. We have decades of stories to catch up on, and I’m looking forward to every moment of it. Picture from https://memory-beta.fandom.com/wiki/Ferenginar?file=Ferenginar_2370s.jpg

There are few pleasures in the galaxy as simple and perfect as ending a good meal with someone you love… and tonight’s finale was nothing short of sublime. Ranih and I shared a superb Lime and Lemon Cheesecake — bright, tangy, and just decadent enough to feel like a small celebration all on its own. The kind of dessert that lingers on the tongue and makes you close your eyes for a moment, just to appreciate the balance of it. Dinner itself had been lovely, but that cheesecake? That was the moment that sealed the evening with a quiet, shared smile between us. One of those smiles that says yes, this is exactly where I want to be. And the night isn’t even over. Once we finish lingering over the last crumbs and teasing each other about who stole the bigger bite, we’ll be heading back to the holodeck for our next adventure: an escape room quest Ranih picked out. She claims it’s “moderately challenging,” which usually means she expects me to get stuck on a puzzle while she solves three in th...

After dinner, we wandered out for a scenic walk around the lake in our holodeck program. Ranih has already promised that tomorrow night—our last evening on this little journey to Ferenginar—we’ll take on the Escape Room together. The lake was even more picturesque than I expected. We found a quiet bench overlooking the water, and for a while we just sat there, shoulder to shoulder, letting the stillness wrap around us. The reflection of the lights on the lake, the soft breeze, the way Ranih’s hand found mine—it all made the moment feel quietly perfect.

The journey from Docosie III to Ferenginar takes about 56 hours, so we’ve settled into a small cabin for the trip. The décor is a little dated—very late‑2380s energy—but everything’s in excellent condition, so no complaints. We’ve booked a holodeck for 21:00 after dinner so we can unwind a bit. We haven’t chosen a program yet, but we’ve narrowed it down to four options: 1. A leisurely walk around a lake in a lush park   2. Canoeing down a river with spectacular scenery   3. An escape‑room‑style quest   4. Relaxing on a beach on Risa with cocktails I’d happily do any of them, though I’m leaning toward the quest. We’ll decide over dinner. Image from Memory Alpha  https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Quarters

Ranih and I boarded the transport this morning, bound for Ferenginar.   Even saying it feels surreal — a place that’s usually the punchline of a joke about rain, commerce, or questionable business ethics is suddenly our destination for the next few days. It’s going to be an interesting visit, to put it mildly. Grand Nagus Rom and Leeta have invited us for what Rom described as “a cultural exchange,” which could mean anything from a heartfelt diplomatic conversation to an enthusiastic sales pitch disguised as hospitality. With Ferengi, the line is thin and often negotiable. Still, I’m looking forward to it. Rom has a good heart, even if he occasionally wraps it in profit margins, and Leeta’s warmth tends to balance out the more… entrepreneurial aspects of Ferengi life. I’m also hoping to obtain a respectable stash of gold‑pressed latinum while we’re there. Not through any shady dealings — just the usual opportunities that arise when visiting a world where commerce is practicall...

There’s a particular kind of evening that feels suspended outside of time — the sort that settles into your bones and reminds you why good friends, good stories, and good whisky are some of life’s finest luxuries. Tonight is one of those evenings. Ranih and I are at James and Jean’s place, tucked into their back garden as dusk slowly folds itself over the rooftops. The tabletop firepit crackles with that soft, comforting confidence of a flame that knows it’s the centrepiece of the night. Its glow paints everything in warm amber: the edges of our glasses, the curve of Jean’s smile, the faint swirl of smoke rising into the cooling air. James has brought out a bottle of very old Scottish whisky — the kind that feels like it should be poured with ceremony. It’s rich, smoky, and impossibly smooth, the sort of drink that encourages slow sips and long stories. And stories are exactly what tonight is for. We’ve been trading memories and laughter as the sky deepens, but James keeps promising th...

I would like to thank every single person involved with Star Trek Deep Space Nine for the inspiration for this blog.  There are several people whom I would like to honor and sincerely thank for being so inspirational and they are: Terry Farrell Nicole DeBoer Nana Visitor Christina Chong Tim Russ  Armin Shimerman  Jonathan Frakes  Michael Dorn  Levar Burton  Patrick Stewart I write Star Trek fan fiction because of my love for Star Trek. To all of you and many more, thank you. Planet Photo by Javier Miranda on Unsplash. HD photo of coffee, cafe, white, and wood by Nathan Dumlao (@nate_dumlao) Volan III colony image from Memory Alpha.  Planet Photo by Javier Miranda on Unsplash.

I’ve come to accept that I genuinely enjoy a good cup of coffee. Not the replicated stuff—though I’ll drink it in a pinch—but the real, freshly ground beans that Ranih insists make the whole habitat smell “like ambition and poor impulse control.” She’s not wrong. Still, I’m starting to wonder if I should cut back. Three cups before midday might be excessive, even for someone with a symbiont who’s lived through entire careers powered by caffeine. I tell myself it’s part of the morning ritual, part of easing into the day’s responsibilities, part of staying sharp. But maybe it’s also become a habit I lean on a little too much. I’ll think about reducing my intake tomorrow. Preferably after one more cup today. https://unsplash.com HD photo of coffee, cafe, white, and wood by Nathan Dumlao (@nate_dumlao)

Look who I found sitting comfortably in Ranih’s craft room—Jodo. The little guy has an uncanny ability to locate the coziest spot in any part of the house. He can also sleep pretty much anywhere. He does have a habit of blocking doorways, though. I’ve said this before, but the behavioural subroutines in the holographic program are quite amazing. He gave me a look when our eyes met, as if to say, Can I help you? I just apologised for disturbing him, backed out of the room, and let the door slide shut.

I bumped into Benjamin early today—the son of Julian Bashir and my previous host, Ezri. They’ve finally finished moving in. Benjamin said it took a little longer than they expected, and I remarked that settling into a new home should be done properly; the time it takes is usually a secondary concern. We didn’t get to chat for long, as Benjamin and Alora were heading off‑world to visit some friends, and I had a few errands of my own to handle. I did wonder whether, Julian and Alora living on Docosie, might pose an issue for us, but now I can’t see any reason why it would.

There’s something about orbit that changes your perspective. I’ve spent enough lifetimes planetside to know the rhythm of daily life—its urgency, its intimacy, its distractions. But up here, watching the world turn beneath me, I’m reminded of something deeper: clarity often comes when we step back. From this vantage, the noise fades. The petty disputes, the tangled logistics, the emotional weather of colony life—all of it shrinks into patterns. You begin to see how things connect. How one storm system feeds another. How a single kind word can shift the mood of a whole crew. Jadzia once said, “The bigger picture isn’t bigger—it’s just quieter.” I didn’t understand that until I inherited her memories. Now I do. The bigger picture doesn’t shout. It waits. It reveals itself when we stop trying to solve everything at ground level and instead ask: what’s really going on here? I think that’s why I’ve come to appreciate these orbital assignments. Not just for the change of scenery or pace, but...

There is such amazing diversity among the residents of Docosie III. We have people from well over sixteen different planets in the Federation, and then there is the diversity within each of those worlds themselves. One of my colleagues, whom I work closely with, is a lovely Thai lady named Mali. I believe her name means “Jasmine,” one of the most classic and beloved names in Thailand, symbolizing purity and motherhood. Mali is an administrator like myself, and she is very well liked and respected by all her colleagues. She lives with her wife, Dara—such a lovely couple. Mali is an amazing cook. Ranih and I have dined with them many times. Today at work she brought me something she had made the night before because she thought I would enjoy it for my lunch, and wow, did I ever. A beautiful Thai green chicken curry. Fantastic. Thanks, Mali.

Dax’s hosts were Lela, Tobin, Emony, Audrid, Torias, Joran, Curzon, Jadzia, and Ezri. Lela was a legislator and the first woman to serve on the Trill Council. She had a son named Ahjess and may have lived in the mid‑21st century. Tobin was a scientist. He had a difficult child named Raifi. Tobin was very shy, had expertise in phase‑coil converters, and worked on a new proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem. He was also a botanist and met the noted Cardassian poet Iloja of Prim while visiting Vulcan. Emony was a professional gymnast. She visited Earth in 2245 to judge a gymnastics competition and had a romance with the Enterprise’s Dr. Leonard McCoy while he was a student in Mississippi. Audrid served as head of the Trill Symbiosis Commission. She had two children, including a daughter named Neema, and died in 2284. Torias was killed in a shuttle accident within a year of being joined. Official records list his death as Stardate 8615.2—six months after his actual death in 2285. He was married t...

Ranih has taken up the ancient art of spinning yarn. She was intrigued after seeing a friend from her knitting group do it, and—being the ever-curious person she is—she had to try it herself. Her goal, I believe, is to spin enough yarn to knit a pair of socks. I must admit, watching her spin is quite hypnotic. Naturally, I’m hoping to benefit from her efforts—mainly in the form of more new socks.

The rain last night was dreadful—loud enough to keep us both awake. Thankfully, the homes on Docosie are well insulated. Neither of us felt like venturing out into the dismal weather, so we used the time to catch up on things. Ranih focused on her knitting and experimented with her spinning wheel. As for me, I worked on the new paint design for the Kestrel fighter. She’s no longer a starship-based fighter, so she deserves a fresh look to reflect her new home here on Docosie.

Ranih isn’t happy that, no sooner had she arrived home, the skies opened and heavy rain began to drench the colony. She’d enjoyed such glorious weather on Bajor, but sadly Docosie III chose this as her welcome‑home present. It’s not as if we weren’t aware this weather was coming. It had been forecast for some time, but I don’t think we quite expected it to resemble the weather on Ferenginar so closely. On the bright side, it did remind me to make sure we pack sufficient waterproof clothing for our trip to see Rom and Leeta next week. For his vegetable patch, James decided to water using only rainwater and set up a collection system. I suspect it will be very full, very quickly. The rain is expected to last until 0300. Not only did the Colony Development Team plan for the severe winters of Docosie, but they also prepared for downpours like this, so we have superb drainage systems. I’d best focus on other things. This weather tends to make me feel somewhat miserable. My first host, Lela,...

Ranih arrived home this morning from her trip to Bajor. When I opened the beautifully wrapped present she brought with her, I was completely taken aback by what rested inside. Two beautiful Bajoran wedding drinking vessels. Traditional vessels like these are crafted from precious metals and adorned with sacred Bajoran symbols. The paired design represents the union of two souls, while the arch connecting them symbolizes shared destiny and spiritual alignment. Seeing them in person—knowing she chose them for us—struck me deeper than I expected. I was right about what I’d said before. I smiled, tears in my eyes, and wrapped my arms around her, holding her as close as I could. In that moment, I felt the truth settle over me with absolute clarity: I have found the one person in the entire galaxy who completes me.

Ranih sent me an image this morning — a small, beautifully wrapped present sitting on a café table on Bajor. Copper ribbon, Bajoran charm, the whole aesthetic practically whispered “thoughtful surprise.” She captioned it with nothing but a wink emoji and the words “For you, my symbiont-bearing mystery.” Naturally, I’m now left to ponder the possibilities. Should I be worried? Is this a romantic gesture, a cultural token, or some elaborate prank involving spring-loaded hasperat? I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s got that quiet mischief in her smile, the kind that makes you double-check your seat before sitting down. Still, the wrapping is elegant — too elegant for anything explosive. Unless it’s emotional. That’s the real danger with Ranih: she knows how to wrap meaning into the smallest things. I’ll probably open it and find something that makes me laugh, then cry, then want to marry her twice. Until then, I’ll keep the image saved and speculate wildly. If it turns out to be a pair of ...

James is doing extremely well with his vegetable patch. Instead of placing it in his garden, as he originally planned, he’s using a plot of land near the colony’s science station. Either way, it’s looking great. I had the impression he wasn’t very good at gardening, but I think he underestimated himself. He’s even added flowers as a decorative touch, and they work beautifully. All of them are native to Docosie III. Some of the vegetables are native as well, except for the broad beans, carrots, and cabbages. The science team is helping him, since it’s a great opportunity to study how non‑native plants grow in the Docosie environment.

Next week, Ranih and I will be visiting Grand Nagus Rom and Leeta on Ferenginar. A lot has changed since I last saw them as Ezri. There have been some reforms in Ferengi society, though not as many as Rom or Leeta would have liked. It can be difficult to push against centuries of tradition and deeply held beliefs. People can be frightened of change—or simply stubbornly resistant to it. One major change involves Ferengi women and clothing. They can now wear clothes if they wish, but from what I’m told, the vast majority still prefer not to. Mostly it’s out of respect for tradition, but amusingly, many say it’s simply easier. Rom has assured us there shouldn’t be any issues with Ranih wearing clothes. Even so, Ranih told him that if it makes things easier for any Ferengi men present at the time, she’s willing to respect their wishes. It’s one of the many things I adore about my fiancée. She’s so open‑minded and respectful of other cultures and traditions. It’s probably one of the reasons...

Well, that was most unpleasant and distressing. As one of the lead administrators for the colony, one of my roles is dealing with the captain’s of non‑Starfleet vessels—the ones that deliver supplies and transport colonists to and from Docosie III, both existing and new residents. Today I had a run‑in with the captain of a cargo vessel, a man by the name of Deca Inkel. We have very strict protocols we must follow, and I don’t know what his problem was, but he was in an incredibly disagreeable mood. I tried my best to explain everything—protocols he clearly already knew—but for some reason, today he was determined to be unreasonable and argumentative. He was also quite insulting, which was entirely uncalled for. He even suggested that I didn’t know what I was talking about and that I was simply being a hindrance. I disagreed with every one of his points, but he was so stubborn that reasoning with him was impossible. I’ll try to learn something from the experience, though I’m honestly no...

Every effort has been taken, during conceptualisation, construction and continual day to day running of the colony, to ensure that we do not have a detrimental impact on the environment and ecosystems of Docosie III.  Hard lessons have been learnt on countless worlds across the Federation and throughout the centuries of what happens when too little action is taken too late.  The waste management systems and policies of the colony are some of the most advanced and sophisticated of any colony in the Alpha Quadrant, a everyone takes great pride in being part of this achievement.  James's project to grow a selection of vegetables in his garden is another great example of saving the energy to replicate said vegetables with the added satisfaction of knowing they were freshly grown.  I will be helping James with his project as I remember, when I was Audrid,  growing various vegetables and fruits my back garden on Trill and the pleasure and pride I got from it. I saw my...

From the picture Ranih has sent me, it certainly looks like she and her two friends are having a good time. They are currently visit a city in the Kendra province, which looks so vibrant.  The two ladies she is with, both work at the school. It's good to see she has made friends since we moved to Docosie III from Trill. Moving somewhere new and different can often be quite daunting. It helped considerably to have two good jobs already in place for when we moved.  I have made some good friends at work, particularly James, who is quite a character but is honest, decent and trustworthy. 

So, it seems that James as being doing some homework since getting to know me.  We were chatting this morning and he asked if I had done the Trill Rite of Closure, the zhian'tara.  I was, I must admit, surprised by the question. I didn't know he knew about it.  For anyone reading my journal in the distant future, the  zhian'tara , also known as the Trill rite of closure, is a ritual in which a joined Trill meets with the previous hosts of their Symbiont.  All of my previous hosts have done the zhian'tara so I guess I will as well, at some point. I get the feeling that he might want to be involved. I think, if I do have a zhian'tara, it won't be for a few years. 

With Ranih away with friends on Bajor, I am sat on my own in my favourite coffee shop and I thought, what would Ranih order and so that's what I have. A luxury hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate sauce.  It's not as busy as it normally is which is kind of nice. It's been an ok week so far, except for the power outage on our orbital station, which I am pleased to report, was not caused by another Cardassian Vole infestation. James explained it in much more detail but basically the issue was caused by several relays going bad. He has since replaced them and is, systematically, running a high level diagnostic on every other system to check for any signs of other potentially problematic relays.  Back to my hot chocolate. 

After James and his team restored the power to the station, things pretty much went back to normal. They are still investigating what caused the black out.  Hopefully is not something serious. Either way, I'm confident James and team can handle it.  On a brighter note, that evening in the station messhall was chilli night. I haven't been able to partake recently due to not being on the station for the previous three chili nights, so I made the effort for this one. 

Not a good morning. James and his team were running frantic on our orbital station from 0600 when power failed. Luckily, emergency lighting and minimal gravity was operating nothing else, so untill they got things going, oxygen was limited.  Not sure what causes the outage. I'm sure James will let me know sometime. I'm grateful I wasn't stuck in a turbolift and just my office, but still in relative darkness and unable to do anything. I was able to get out as the doors can me manually operated with a lever.  I have to admit, I did wonder if the Cardassian Voles we dealt with on the planet surface were the only group and if some were on the orbital station. I seriously hope not. However, I have experience in dealing with them on a station setting.  All is good now, though. Back to work. 

The sheer sophistication of the holographic program of our cat, Jodo, is truly remarkable.  There is that ever present need to remind myself that Jodo is not a real cat but he truly feels like a real cat with a real loving and often mischievous personality.  Today, Artificial Intelligence is woven and integrated into every day life but fifteen hundred years ago when Trill was achieving warp powered space exploration, AI was still very much in its developmental phase. Back then there were some serious concerns, and rightly so, regarding it's use and it's future. Captain James T Kirk, although speaking about a future of peace with the Klingon empire, stated a truth that is still with us today...  "People can be very frightened of change"  - Captain James T Kirk. "Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced."  - James Baldwin 

As I predicted, James was thrilled when I asked if he fancied going on a hiking trip to the forest and mountains that are roughly an hour’s shuttle ride from the colony. Obviously, this will be after Ranih and I return from our honeymoon, but James didn’t mind the wait. It will give him ample time to plan the trip down to the minutest detail. When he works on any technical project for the colony, he’s well known for going to extremes with the finer points. The area where most people go for hiking and camping is a beautiful part of the continent where the colony is located. It’s a large wooded region with streams, lakes, rivers, and a massive mountain range. We will have to take a few precautions regarding certain wildlife, making sure we bring the anti-venom for Docosie’s most venomous spider. We definitely do not want to run into that thing. Along with the anti-venom, we can set up a device that emits a frequency we can’t hear but that will deter the spider from encroaching on our cam...

Despite Docosie III being a colony, it does have certain qualities that lend themselves to attracting tourism.  As I mentioned previously, there are many areas outside of the colony which are excellent for leisure activities and it's not just the colonists that take the advantage.  Not only that, Starfleet Academy uses the planet for training exercises.  A recent picture was captured of the colony for some promotional material and it really captures the picturesque nature of what has been created here.  I won't point out my home, as I like my privacy.