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((Temporary Quarters, DS-285))

::His possessions had been beamed over to the temporary quarters that Captain Samuelson had assigned to him, and for the first time in a long time, the Ba'ku was alone.::

::And it was killing him.::

::All of the items remained packed, with the Captain knowing that he was headed for another starship soon. There was no point, and the quarters served as little more than a storage space and a bed for the night. All packed, except for one thing: His prized guitar. An ancient acoustic guitar made of the Bhavir wood with a mahogany neck that he had had specially shipped from Earth to Ba'ku when contact had been made with the Federation. The strings were hand-made by one of the best metalsmiths on Ba'ku, and the deep, resonant tone spoke of the loving craftsmanship and care Tyr had applied when he assembled it. It now sat on his knee, his experienced and talented hands gripping the neck and ready to pluck the strings. It was here, alone, with his music, that the Ba'ku sought solace. Shelter from the storm of Sanuye's rage, of Tye's fierce loyalty to his brother, and from the stinging loss of both of his sons. He could blame it on the mission, true, and the chaos that followed, but in truth, it was his fault. He could no longer blame anyone else, and he didn't try.::

::He struck a G chord, allowing the sound to resonate out of the opening in the guitar and dance across the room, resounding off the walls with a surprisingly good resonance. He searched his mind, through the catalog of songs he'd learned and memorized, for the right one. For the one that matched the mood and the message, and, after several more strums in the key of G, he found it. Taking a deep breath (and, although he would never admit it, wiping away a stray tear), the Ba'ku tapped record on the PADD. When they were infants (which, truly, was not that long ago), music had always been the way to get them to sleep, or stop crying. He hoped that that still held true, and that they would listen, preferably together, to the message from a father trying desperately to maintain a connection with his sons. He strummed the guitar once more, then looked into the PADD and spoke.::

WALTAS: Tye. Sanuye. I know that things have been strained between us, and that I am responsible. I should have been there for you, and I have no excuse. I could blame my duty, my ship or the mission, but I won't do that. I failed in my ultimate duty-the one I have to both of you. I hope that you can forgive me some day, and that we can, at the very least, maintain contact. Wherever you go, I will be with you, and it's my hope that you live full and rich lives. ::Pausing:: I'm leaving on another mission tomorrow, and it's one I may not come back from. I just wanted.. ::His voice broke and he paused, collecting his emotions:: I just wanted to leave you with this..if it's all you'll take from me, it's enough.

::He struck the guitar and slid slowly into the rhythm of the song, his fingers moving across the frets and pressing the strings down to produce the chords. Soon his voice filled the room.::

OOC: http:\\youtu.be\zXwr0JGUCFI

::With the finished notes resonating through his quarters, he ended the transmission and his finger hovered over the send button. After a moments' hesitation, he tapped the PADD, sending a father's hope to two boys who may never listen to it.::

Captain Tyr Waltas
Commanding Officer
USS Discovery

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