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Lt. Commander
Join Date: Feb 2013
Posts: 234
# 19
08-22-2013, 10:16 PM
Gregs Son'aire, captain of the U.S.S. Oregon, sat down at his desk to fill out his personal log, and to fill out a few letters to send to Starfleet Headquarters. He opened a file of music he had stored to play for background music in the P.A.D.D., and it started playing. To ease his next words, he poured himself a glass of Romulan Ale stashed in a false wall in his desk, and tapped his P.A.D.D. to start his voice log.
*****

Captains Log: U.S.S. Oregon
Stardate: 90673.08

After a supposedly simple three-month mission to the Tau-Dewa sector block, specifically charting the Azure Nebula subspace corridors, the thought of death has come again to me, like it has every time I've had to file these reports and letters. We've learned much about the corridors, at the loss of seven crewman and injury to over a dozen more. And now I was left with reports, bland and sterile apologies with little meaning to the recipient except grief.

It's been a long road, getting from there to here.
It's been a long time, but my time is finally near...


Death leaves a metallic taste in my mouth every time I write a report or visit the house of a crewman killed in action. I cover the taste with ale, but in the end the emotional responses I get in return still leave the taste in my mouth. The looks on a person's face, the loss of their child or relative, always disheartens me.

I've got faith to believe. I can do anything

I once thought I could do anything to save those who mattered most to me; I've even rewound time on one occasion to save a few crewman. But I've lost many friends to death over my four year span as a Starfleet captain. Many of them were declared lost in space, others killed in action, some killed by accidents, malevolent aliens, and yet some sacrificed themselves so other's could live.

I can reach any star.

But with death comes rejoicing as these men and women are never forgotten by those they've helped, by their friends, by the ones they saved. *Sigh* I've never forgotten the 2,653 men and women I've lost over this four year span... They will never be forgotten because they've helped further their dreams...and those who share them; the one thing Starfleet has never forgotten, and to quote James T. Kirk:

[I}to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.[/i]

***

I've got faith that we'll still hold to this motto, even with new threats popping up everywhere.

I've got faith, faith of the heart.

*****
Gregs Son'aire tapped his P.A.D.D., ending his recording and the music, and got up to refill his glass of Romulan Ale. The names of the seven crewman didn't weigh so heavy on him anymore. He sent the letters to Starfleet, swished what remained of his refilled glass and downed it, then went to his room for the rest of the night cycle.