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RAVENSCROFT (PNPC) - Emerson's Personal Log


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((Blueheart's Quarters, USS Discovery-C))



::He emptied the fifth glass of whiskey, relishing the bittersweet afterburn at

the back of his throat and the stinging vapors snaking up his nostrils, drawing

tears from his eyes. His head expanded and contracted with each gulp of the

honey-colored liquid. He stood surprisingly steady, staring silently out the

view screen, the vivid magenta nebula large and close and painting the bedroom a

matte violet. It was akin to watching a sunrise on Earth, the deep purple hues

fading into lighter bluer tones, as the starship drew closer to the stellar gas

cloud. Only it didn't feel like the dawn of a new day.



It felt like the end of time.



The crystal pendants, refulgent and dangling from his neck, were obscenely

quiet, as if taunting him, teasing him. They had not been so reticent a little

while ago, spilling secrets beyond one's imagination. Secrets not necessarily

welcomed. He fondled and rolled them between his fingers.::



RAVENSCROFT: Computer, begin personal log. Ravenscroft, Emerson D'Arcy.



::He sat at the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, hands cradling the

whiskey glass at a breathtakingly sloping angle, the contents of which came

dangerously close to spilling. He never took his eyes off the glorious nebula.

He offered it a smug smile.



Perhaps, if he was still conscious at the end of the personal log, he would even

offer it a toast.::





((Personal Log of Lt Emerson D'Arcy Ravenscroft – Stardate 239004.04))



Today, I have seen my future self.



The Preserver crystals hold within them a technology beyond my comprehension. An

unknown intrinsic mechanism allowed for temporal displacement and hence, time

travel. We, or our counterparts – I do not know who is whom for this is all

still so confusing – had apparently fought the Breen, chased them to their

homeworld, crashed on their planet. Thawed back to life from cryostasis, the

survivors banded together to travel back in time to prevent the tragic fate that

befell the Discovery from ever happening. The plan worked. I know all this from

the messages we recorded in the crystal. I know this because I exist in the here

and now. And while I applaud their noble endeavor, I find myself asking, am I

grateful they sacrificed themselves for us? Yes, I am. Am I happy to be alive

knowing what they did for us? This, I am not certain and cannot answer this

question now. It is indeed a strange and peculiar place to be knowing time was

reversed to keep us alive. I cannot even begin to ponder who and what in some

place and time had to disappear from existence when the timeline was corrupted.

Once more I cannot say for certain if I will ever be able to live with myself

knowing this answer.



What is tearing me apart is not that Raj is a corpse or that I am a mad

disfigured cripple in the future timeline. Or that I was one of the lucky

accursed few to catch a glimpse of the future. What torments me is that I hold,

in my hands, what could possibly be the most powerful weapon mankind has ever

seen. Someday someone somewhere is going to figure this all out and destroy all

of humanity. All life in all universes. I have, in my hands, this very moment,

the end of Time itself. So what should I do? What shouldn't I do?



The messages are inconsequential. The recipients shall have their messages,

including Raj. They will know what transpired 189 years from now. But none will

have the crystals. A repeat incident cannot be allowed to take place. The price

is too high. And someone somewhere is even right now paying this hefty price.



((End of personal log))





::The nebula took on a few streaks of green at this distance. The plasma cloud

seemed to grow tendrils that began reaching out to embrace the approaching

starship. He looked at the crystals at the end of their long tethers, tickling

the bare skin of his chest with every breath he took. He finished whatever

remained in the glass in one large gulp, then moved to the nearby counter to

tilt the contents of a decanter into the emptied glass. How many glasses had he

imbibed? He downed the drink in another large gulp, enjoying the singe to his

throat and head. He casually slipped the pendants over his head and gave them

one final vacuous look, chuckling as he did so.



No, none shall have them at all.::



TBC

=================================

Lt Emerson Ravenscroft

Xenolinguist

USS DISCOVERY-C



as simmed by

LtCmdr Raj Blueheart

XO

USS DISCOVERY-C

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