AN: Whoa! It's been a long time, but here we go. This is it. Thanks so much for your patience, everyone! It may not have turned out exactly the way I had in mind, but I'm very glad that I finished it, and hopefully the feeling is mutual ^_^

Live long and prosper,

Incanto out

First Officer's Log, Koyomi Mizuhara, Stardate XXX-OOO

The Ryouma is currently en route to mediate a border dispute between my home world of Vulcan and the Romulan Empire. Estimated time of arrival at Warp Seven is in two days, seven hours. This gives me time to advance my personal duties aboard this ship: that is, supporting our captain, getting to know the senior staff, memorizing the duty rosters and generally acclimating to my responsibilities.

It's true that Tomo was a bit of a loose canon in the academy, and to be entirely frank, I was less than eager to take this command, Federation flagship or otherwise. But I must say, she seems to have matured considerably since I last saw her. I suppose not even a man like Kimura would promote a complete imbecile to the Captain's chair, and I admit, for all the occasions on which my judgement differed from Takino's, I may not have always been in the right. She gave a rousing speech around the conference table about the confidence she had in each of us discharging this, our maiden duty; and when I asked, perhaps a bit sarcastically, where she got such confidence, she replied: "I d-dunno, Number One, I just know, okay? Jeez."—Which is no more eloquent than par for Tomo, but it was the way that she said it that convinced me.

As I reported earlier, a number of low-scale, anomalous incidents continue plaguing the crew, all of which I attribute to nerves—stage fright, first-night jitters, what have you. Lieutenant and Chief Engineer Mihama, for example, reporting that the reflection in her bathroom mirror smiled at her; the missing grate on the Jeffries tube in the conference room that no one seems able to account for; and finally—she reported it herself—a parcel of junk data in Lt.-Commander Ayumu Kasuga's subroutines, that serves no apparent purpose and that, if she were an antiquated Terran personal computer and not a sophisticated android, I would ascribe to the phenomenon of "spam mail." I may as well record the contents of the parcel here for convenience's sake (before signing off, I have a game of Go Fish to attend):

April Fool's!

Sincerely,

H