Science Officer's report to Starfleet Command

Posted on Mon Mar 17th, 2025 @ 9:15am by Lieutenant Inara Senn

To: Starfleet Command, Academy Cadet Liaison Office
From: Lieutenant Inara Senn, Chief Science Officer, USS Washington
Subject: Special Training for Red Squad Cadet

To Whom It May Concern (and I sincerely hope someone, somewhere is actually concerned),

It is my duty (and a personal act of catharsis) to submit my official report on the latest Red Squad cadet assigned to my department. Before we proceed, let me make one thing abundantly clear: I am a scientist, not an Academy professor, not a glorified babysitter, and definitely not a miracle worker capable of teaching humility to the Red Squad breed of cadet.

The cadet in question, a young Cardassian—because clearly, this situation didn’t have enough flavor—came aboard with all the hallmark traits of Red Squad: undeniably intelligent, superbly confident, and completely insufferable. The moment she stepped into my lab, I was graced with the overwhelming presence of someone who already knew everything and considered my department a mere formality before her inevitable rise to scientific glory. And lucky me, as a Betazoid, I got to hear every condescending thought on top of the spoken ones.

Naturally, I felt compelled to provide a training experience worthy of such prodigious talent.

For the past several weeks, the cadet has engaged in an elite, highly specialized program designed to correct… deficiencies in her real-world knowledge. Notable lessons included:

Fetching hyperspanner sets immediately after placing them back in the wrong location, because apparently, "organization is for subordinates."

Filing every lab report in triplicate—by hand—since she so confidently claimed that "clerical work is beneath a scientist of her caliber."

Diagnosing sensor anomalies by conducting a manual recalibration of the external sensor arrays—in an EVA suit. (Lesson: Just because you theoretically understand subspace distortions does not mean you can operate a scanner.)

Assisting Ensign T’Vral in the exhilarating task of inventorying every isolinear chip in the department. Twice. Because she lost count the first time.

Learning firsthand why one should never attempt to “optimize” the ship’s sensor algorithms without informing the Chief Science Officer first. (Spoiler: It ended with emergency power failures and a very long repair shift.)

Cleaning out the biological sample storage units, including several containing live specimens—because nothing builds character like realizing some microorganisms bite back.

I am pleased to report that by the end of this grueling and absolutely vital program, the cadet exhibited a marked improvement in humility, caution, and a much healthier respect for the actual work of Starfleet scientists.

I am less pleased to report that this experience has in no way lessened my lifelong contempt for Red Squad, its institutional arrogance, or its continued insistence that a few extra training simulations somehow substitute for actual experience.

In conclusion, I must insist that no further Red Squad cadets be assigned to my department. The Washington is a starship, not a finishing school for overconfident Academy brats, and I have neither the time nor the patience to spend another tour of duty hammering basic professionalism into another arrogant prodigy.

If Starfleet must insist on sending me another Red Squad cadet, I will be forced to alter my curriculum accordingly. The next one will have the distinct honor of recalibrating the warp field emitters… from the outside. I hear it’s a real lesson in humility.

Cordially (and with precisely the level of exasperation this deserves),

Lieutenant Inara Senn
Chief Science Officer
USS Washington

P.S. If any of my former Academy instructors are reading this: Congratulations. You win. I have become you. I hope you’re thrilled.