AFTER some serious consideration, and admittedly, that little drink I promised myself which had self indulgently ended up as my seventh bottle of some surprisingly good if obscure bottled beer from Epsilon Indi – I had made my mind up. I was through with San Francisco,. Through with even entertaining the most tenuous and specious notion that my current career path would end in anything but the most ungracious and jarring plummet to earth since what did for the dinosaurs.

I supped the remainder of the Indi brew and made my way to the end of the Pier 39. I gazed out into the starry moonlit night, the reflected lunar glow casting a silvery strip of light on the waters of San Francisco bay, almost as if pointing its way towards Alcatraz island out at sea. I idly supposed to myself, that this was kind of an inverted metaphor for what I was planning to do. I was planning to run in the opposite direction from my so – called prison.

I listlessly gazed the nighttime panorama from the piers edge, the Golden Gate bridge to my left, lit up, partly to show this famous landmark off, and partly from the red warning lights dotted about it to warn craft in the bay and in the local airspace. I never got tired of looking at the most famous land mark in the entire city; the most beautiful suspension bridge on Earth. The gateway to the bay itself, or the last man made beacon one would encounter before entering the mighty Pacific, depending on which direction you were going of course. In spite of everything I thought, I would miss the bridge.

I looked towards my right, at the main space port for the city, a purpose built island from reclaimed land, constructed upon what had once been called Treasure Island and Yearba Buena. The island was connected to San Francisco, and on the other side; to Oakland and Berkeley, by huge bridges that dwarfed the Golden gate. Though despite being technologically more sophisticated in their construction, I doubt many San Franciscoers held them as close to their hearts in quite the same way they did for Golden gate.

The spaceport was busy as usual, what with the city by the bay's importance in the greater scheme of things on Earth. The lights from the departing and approaching ships looked like fireflies buzzing around the island, although their flying was of a much more regimented sort, due to the strict traffic control rules around such a port. You were given a flight path and you were expected to stick to it over there. It was strange to think that in just over twenty four hours from now, I'd more than likely be sat aboard one of those little points of light, departing this city; possibly indefinitely.

I continued to survey the night time scene, taking in the view of the city that for good or ill had sort of become a home for the past few years, albeit in an admittedly not very homely way. I finished the contents of what I had decided upon would be my last bottle of beer, felt as the cool liquid went down my gut. I was done here on the pier, I was done with the whole place, and it wasn't just the Dutch courage talking. I looked at the empty bottle and with a semi conscious action I couldn't really explain, I hurled the bottle into the air, watching as it went on its spinning trajectory, right down to it's watery landing, a dull and distant splosh signifying it had hit home base.

I noticed that some of the night strollers around the pier shot me a few sour looks. Littering was not the done thing on twenty fourth century Earth, especially not for someone as attired as I was, particularly not in San Francisco of all places. I gave them a half sheepish acknowledgement of guilt at my heinous defilement of humanity's ancestral homeworld, and made my way back towards the Embarcadero, which was buzzing with as many people milling about the front on a pleasant evening as the pier was. It was surprisingly busy for a Monday night, but hey there was always something going on in the city by the bay. At least that's what the recruitment people always liked to emphasise.

I didn't really acknowledge the throng in any way, or feel part of the crowd to any degree; I had far too much on my mind for that, too much to focus on if I was to do this. I decided I'd walk it back to my digs tonight rather than take a transport; I needed the fresh air to be honest, some time to be alone with my thoughts. I figured that although it two miles away, I'd do it in just over an hour, a fully grown fellow in my prime like me, no problem.

I passed Fort Mason and the Marina Boulevard, thinking about how I'd word it. That was the key to the whole; for want of a better description, damage limitation exercise. I knew that saying it wouldn't go down too well with the powers that be, was to put it mildly; a gross understatement. If I pitched my case "well" I might at least manage to escape with a tiny latinum slip of my dignity left. At worst I'd be frog marched off the premises, right in front of the whole massed ranks of the entire campus sent out to watch and compound my disgrace. My name blackballed for all eternity, banished for ever.

At least taking up the offer was legal, well in the letter of the law it was. So I suppose I should have been grateful that I wouldn't end up facing the possibility of a stay in the cells. Despite this minor legal quibble, you'd be surprised how little comfort that actually gave me right now.

With these images heavy on my mind, I realised that the Presidium and the Golden gate were now on clear visible display. The uniform I wore was as intertwined in popular consciousness as the other two were in this setting, my Starfleet uniform, or to put it more accurately, my third year Starfleet cadets uniform. It would be my final year as well.

Yes, after a long deliberation I would no longer be taking my place at the academy. I was, to give it the technical term; chucking the towel in. Now at the best of times, walking away from the academy, and pissing away all that training, time and resources spent on molding you, into some black hole, wasn't exactly something that your superiors were going to give you a hearty high five and a parting gift for, that went without saying. In my case however, it was a little bit more complicated than could be considered "normal" under the circumstances.

I was telling my CO's that I wanted to bail, which was bad enough. However, it just so happened that I was bringing this awkward little technicality up whilst all of Starfleet were in the midst of fighting and dying, in the worst war in the whole of the Federations history, a war that if we were brutally honest, we had every chance of losing. To say my little announcement was coming at a bad time, really didn't cover the half of it. There was no easy way to do this. None at all.

My body and soul heavy with the exertion from the walk, and the stifling emotional baggage I wore around my neck, I finally, eventually reached the entrance to the academy and took a last look at the lit up bridge, I really would miss that bridge I told myself. It was with a heavy heart that I made my way to my digs. To face the inevitable fallout that morning would bring. But face it I must. It was time to break the bad news.