Journal Entry #786: The Reason
3653, phoenix constellation
Aboard the USS Intrepid, Private quarters
Journal, it is about time I tell you how I got here, but first let me speak of how things have to be this way.
A long time ago, the world took a turn for the worse: oil was fought over…entire civilizations destroyed. It got to the point where there was nowhere for people to live, so millions of people took to the skies for refuge, and even then space was running out. Therefore, they left for other planets that could be inhabited by people.
That was over 1,000 years ago. Now earth, and other planets for that matter, is home to hundreds of intelligent species living on them. Most of them are too afraid to show their ugly faces…so they hide in human-like shells, living in secret, in fear.
My father was one of those aliens, who fell in love with a human being. This, as known to many constellations, was absolutely forbidden, but destiny has an interesting way of working. You may think I am an alien, but by no means do I have the appearance, physical or mental, of one. I look, sound, even smell like a human being.
For his so-called treasonous act, the Council for the Federated Human Alliance had agreed to execute him almost immediately after hearing about an alien impregnating a human female. My mother, however, ran off with me when I was but a child.
And now---
The page was ripped from the local bully Quarter Guard trying to confiscate the journal, and as a result, the rest the entry was nothing more than mere splotches of the nano ink; he had that usual half-toothed grin he was infamous for having, and had spoken in both a childish and very rude tone towards the engineer.
“So, now, wot eva do we ‘ave ‘ere: a pa’sonal un-authorized janal? Yew should know Corvine that sort of rabbish is fo’bidden without propa con-sent.”
“Yes, I know, you low IQ-ed oaf. I have the ‘consent,’” the young woman sarcastically said while using hand motions to make quotation marks, “from the Elders. It’s-“
“It’s a fake pass, lowly mortal. Which means I ‘ereby declare-“
“-That your post as a Quarter Guard is eliminated.”
An elderly, frail voice thundered in from the hall outside the confined room. It had both softness, and a commanding tone to it
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