Diary Entry of Jalan Riyadosh---
Holo-log of the Stargazer---
Personal Server Log---
Begin Diary Entry---
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The headaches are beginning to lessen in severity, but I still find myself lying alone in silence to make them tolerable. I am told it is likely a side-effect of the continued use of the flash learning throughout my life inside the bacta tank. The reason for my continued growth inside the tank was, in the human replica droids words, 'To ensure the utmost success of the enhancements, as well to enable a complete and full recovery from aforementioned augmentations.'
...
It removed the likelihood of my bones breaking under the stress of my body-weight when I rise from my bed in the morning. Removed the chance for a jostling freighter ride from shattering parts of my skeletal system as it did my mother. It has certainly, in one vein of thinking, improved my quality of life...and forced me into a cage.
...
The osteo augment has reduced my white blood cell count in lieu of enabling me to move and act of my own accord. To be able to sit up, hold a spoon, to not be bothered by a stubbed toe. The droid, my guardian, has pointed out that I should limit my interactions with guests however. Wear a synthmesh mask whenever possible, wash my hands frequently, of which I do not mind. But, what can I expect from a life where I exchanged one ill omen for another? Am I to be forever limited by something? I can run, shake hands, exercise to a degree, and a number of other things around the ship.
...
Limited albeit, to times when there are so few people, that no one wishes to speak. No engagement of casual conversation. As some would call it, companionable silence. My environment is not only cleaned and sterilized of potential health risks, but also of interaction. Or at least on this vessel. When I am allowed to leave, to take lessons that would not be available aboard the ship, I am granted set of liberties, my every movement able to be tracked now that my brain is connected to the holo-net. In the worst cases, I am unable to see my guardian, as she has tampered with my vision and made herself invisible to me.
...
Is this to be my life? A bird, trapped inside a rose bush? Able to fly, knowing that I can, but unable to do so without destroying my wings in the attempt?
...
I have only these paintings to keep company with now. My own things, memories that I have made.
...
I remember their voices around me. The way they moved and held themselves in simple motion. How they looked at me. Spoke to me. Held my gaze and considered me, heard my voice. I was one of them. At least for a moment.
...
Proof that I existed.
...
I can only hope to fill these walls with more memories.
...
End of Diary Entry
...
Good Night Jalan...
Holo-log of the Stargazer---
Personal Server Log---
Begin Diary Entry---
...
The headaches are beginning to lessen in severity, but I still find myself lying alone in silence to make them tolerable. I am told it is likely a side-effect of the continued use of the flash learning throughout my life inside the bacta tank. The reason for my continued growth inside the tank was, in the human replica droids words, 'To ensure the utmost success of the enhancements, as well to enable a complete and full recovery from aforementioned augmentations.'
...
It removed the likelihood of my bones breaking under the stress of my body-weight when I rise from my bed in the morning. Removed the chance for a jostling freighter ride from shattering parts of my skeletal system as it did my mother. It has certainly, in one vein of thinking, improved my quality of life...and forced me into a cage.
...
The osteo augment has reduced my white blood cell count in lieu of enabling me to move and act of my own accord. To be able to sit up, hold a spoon, to not be bothered by a stubbed toe. The droid, my guardian, has pointed out that I should limit my interactions with guests however. Wear a synthmesh mask whenever possible, wash my hands frequently, of which I do not mind. But, what can I expect from a life where I exchanged one ill omen for another? Am I to be forever limited by something? I can run, shake hands, exercise to a degree, and a number of other things around the ship.
...
Limited albeit, to times when there are so few people, that no one wishes to speak. No engagement of casual conversation. As some would call it, companionable silence. My environment is not only cleaned and sterilized of potential health risks, but also of interaction. Or at least on this vessel. When I am allowed to leave, to take lessons that would not be available aboard the ship, I am granted set of liberties, my every movement able to be tracked now that my brain is connected to the holo-net. In the worst cases, I am unable to see my guardian, as she has tampered with my vision and made herself invisible to me.
...
Is this to be my life? A bird, trapped inside a rose bush? Able to fly, knowing that I can, but unable to do so without destroying my wings in the attempt?
...
I have only these paintings to keep company with now. My own things, memories that I have made.
...
I remember their voices around me. The way they moved and held themselves in simple motion. How they looked at me. Spoke to me. Held my gaze and considered me, heard my voice. I was one of them. At least for a moment.
...
Proof that I existed.
...
I can only hope to fill these walls with more memories.
...
End of Diary Entry
...
Good Night Jalan...
