Space the final veneer

I have written short stories before. I have written stories that I dreamed would be books. I've never posted any and I've shared even fewer. Why now? I don't know. So for now this is as close as I'll get.

Prologue

I wear this uniform, I swore the oath, I reported for duty. But what did I surrender?

A replicator cannot replicate the essence of my heart. The hollow deck can craft my perfect dream. But it cannot craft my perfect mate. Look how far we've come. From our primitive beginnings, to out beyond the nebula's that we once watched through telescopes. We have made a home in the vacuum stretched reaches of the Galaxy. And yet our hearts do not rest.

I serve to explore. To push the boundaries of our knowledge and our influence throughout the vacuum. Such a lofty goal for my species. But in doing so neglect of the needs of the one. Light years from the cradle I've run. To sit on a bridge of man-made marvel and look back light years to that same cradle for answers.

Navigation! Drop to sublight. Communications, inform the crew prepare for first contact. 

Light years from the cradle I'm here to learn who they are. And yet I cannot answer these questions for myself. Much like , going to a friend to get their opinion of ourselves. The fleet has struck out to the furthest reaches to answer the question of who we are.

Biological and without circuitry. Save for our few enhancements. Still more man than machine, but for how long? How much more evolution can any of us take before we learn finally what we're evolving from?

There are times I long for the real green grass of my home against my skin. The unprocessed not so pure air filling my lungs. And the warm subtle touch of her hand on my cheek. But that was the past. She signed to journey without me. I signed to journey with the fleet. Now I sit in the captain's chair an explorer.

Command is a lonely position. And a hollow title to allow such thoughts. The external search for identities is a lie. Hear me as I utter the phrase that has spurred our imagination for centuries. 

"To boldly go." Space, the final veneer.