round 5 LtCmdr Raj Blueheart - Postcards From The Past

[Valdivia]

((Breen Homeworld))

((Stardate 257607.28))

CAMERON: =/\= Hey Holmes! Check this out! =/\=

::The man in the matte grey EVA suit lumbered up to his similarly-dressed colleague and peered over his shoulder, the lights around his visor illuminating the console Cameron was working on. The rest of the derelict ship was submerged in cold, unforgiving darkness.::

HOLMES: =/\= What? More ice-slugs? =/\=

CAMERON: =/\= Ship logs. A non-encrypted cache of them. Back in the day, they used a rudimentary system to store information. A system that didn't require too much power to access. I hooked up my Q-scanner to the console and with whatever minimal power I can afford to waste from it, I barely managed to extract some of the logs. This one was right at thetop of the pile. =/\=

HOLMES: ::leaning in closer to peer at the Q-scanner screen:: =/\= Good. Maybe we'll finally learn what happened to the ship and crew. =/\=

CAMERON: =/\= I wouldn't get my hopes up too high, Holmes. It appears to be a personal log…. of the First Officer…. Just some random entry. Might not tell us much…. Let me get it cleaned up.. there.. almost done. =/\= ::He disconnected the scanner and waited for it to display the salvaged remnant of the log.::

HOLMES: ::sighing:: =/\= She was a mighty fine ship back then. They don't make `em like they used to. I still can't believe we found her. We finally found her, after all those years looking in every quadrant and peeking into every wormhole. Who would've guessed we'd find her right in our backyard? =/\=

CAMERON: =/\= What the hell happened, Holmes? How did she end up here, in this God-forsaken hellhole? =/\=

HOLMES: ::shrugging and shaking his head sadly:: =/\= We keep digging until we find theanswers, Cam. We don't ever stop until we find those answers! All of them! =/\=

CAMERON: =/\= Okay. Done. =/\=

::The scanner screen flickered and pulsed. Both men anxiously awaited with bated breath asthe personal log entry of the Starfleet officer rolled up the screen.

It began as such: ::

Personal Log of Lieutenant Commander Raj Blueheart
First Officer of the USS Discovery, NCC-31929-C
Stardate 239001.31

The last night of shore leave had been a memorable one, and especially poignant. Emerson and I had the time of our lives on the beach. The food and wine were exquisite, the music lovely and the company of friends and family priceless. I can't begin to decide exactly what wasthe main event I was celebrating: the end of shore leave with a large part of the crew and Eskyys' and Jenyys' generous hospitality, or, the anniversary of my fourth year with Starfleet, which also happens to be how long I've served on board the Discovery. I don't think anyone realizes this little trivia, not even Emerson, and I wouldn't have expected them to. What's a paltry four years compared to the decades of Waltas, Mitchell and Eskyys? Ah, but without realizing it, they HAVE given me a wonderful present to commemorate this milestone in my career. The farewell supper Eskyys and Jenyys had organized for the crew on the beach overlooking the sunset-kissed Caribbean on the last day of shore leave was the best gift anyone has ever given me.

I've never been a part of a more loving and beautiful family.

We had cast away whatever lingering animosity and bilious enmity that may have arisen between us following the mutiny, into the ocean that night. The close circle we had built aroundthe campfire, Emerson's solo woeful highland tune on the violin and the flowing wine, laughter and tears had been a sort of ritual, a closure, to that dark and unspeakable period in theotherwise immaculately glorious tapestry that is the hallowed history of the Discovery. New bonds had been forged, old ones reinforced.

We had bid our adieus just before the stroke of midnight, with a promise to return. I had resolved to hate Earth for all eternity until those precious moments on the Oasis Resort in theBahamas. The bitter old memories of Earth have been diluted by sweeter, newer, more potent ones. The birthplace of the human civilization has been once again sanctified.

End of personal log.

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Personal Log of Lieutenant Commander Raj Blueheart
First Officer of the USS Discovery, NCC-31929-C
Stardate 239002.01 – Supplemental

Off the starboard bow, Emerson and I had watched with sorrowful hearts the modified probe cradling the inanimate, cryostatic body of Lady Julia Reyna Amada Raj, make its steady way into the roiling core of the Sun. We had prayed over her and had sung hymns, in full accordance to neo-Grecian rites, witnessed by the revered pantheon. I had placed her favorite purple mouse next to her, inside her burgundy velvet-lined polished steel casket. Several moments later, with a brief, barely discernible flash of intense white light, she had pierced theheart of the Sun. Atoms scattered across the universe, she will now live forever.

Farewell, my immortal beloved.

End of personal log (supplemental)

HOLMES: =/\= That's it? Doesn't tell us much. =/\=

CAMERON: =/\= No, it doesn't. But it's just one of several thousands of logs cached up in here. Eventually we'll find the right ones that'd tell us what happened to the Discovery. =/\=

HOLMES: ::looking around the eerie decrepit chamber:: =/\= I hope so. There's a lot riding on this salvage mission. =/\=

CAMERON: ::grinning wryly behind his visor:: =/\= You don't say. You ready to believe it's a conspiracy? =/\=

HOLMES: ::looking around again, chills running down his spine:: =/\= The flagship of theAvalon sector, mysteriously disappeared without a trace over a century ago, finally found, just as mysteriously, buried miles beneath the frozen salt dunes of the Breen homeworld…. I'm ready to believe anything! =/\=

::And the men continued their work on the derelict starship.::

END
================================
Dr Evan Holmes
&
MSgt Isaiah Cameron (Ret.)

AstroDynamics Archeology & Salvage Unit
Alpha Alliance Federation

as simmed by

LtCmdr Raj Blueheart
First Officer
USS DISCOVERY-C