Post by Lieutenant jg T'Ghor on Aug 24, 2018 19:56:31 GMT -5
"Personal log, Lieutenant JG T'Ghor, Chief Science Officer of the U.S.S. Pilgrim." A long sigh followed, as if the name of the ship itself did something to the speaker. "Stardate... I don't know. Doesn't matter at this point. Every day since the destruction of Argentina is one giant, jumbled mess..."
The Klingon stopped speaking, then looked to the destruction in his room. Shattered tables, chairs, cabinets, glasses and plates. He frowned at it.
"I lost control of my emotions for the first time in a long while. I truly lost all control, but... T'Vin is gone. I have watched our song from Risa maybe ten times... I cannot believe this. Just a few months here, and I failed the department. These kids trust me, they are perhaps my only friends on this thrice-damned ship... And I could not even protect her. Maybe if I hadn't gone for Arfacio... That sounds cold. I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself if anything happened to Arfacio as well." Another long sigh followed, as T'Ghor went to pick up the flower he had given T'Vin, looking into it.
"I should have died on the Argentina. So many of my friends, my mate, and my captain dead... and yet, I was locked out of Sto'vo'kor by Valais. Now I have nothing left, not even honour. With every day that passes, the hope of rescuing the hostages from the Argentina diminishes. I most likely won't be able to keep my promise. Maybe my father was right. I am a pathetic excuse for a klingon. And yet, I cannot sit around and wait for death to claim me. I will work, every bit as hard as I have so far. So long as there is the smallest sliver of hope, it is my duty to try and grasp at it... This despair is what the Dark wants. This is what feeds her. I will allow myself some small mourning. I will live and work on. Even if it seems that every small bit of happiness has been denied to me forever. Some of the very few happy moments I have had since Bajor, T'Vin was present. Our song, the hot springs..." T'Ghor set the flower down, and went to the replicator, slowly starting to feed bits and pieces of broken furniture into it to recycle.
"I have finished the paper she had started, and renamed the Orchid in T'Vin's memory, as it was not officially named yet in her first draft. I sent it to the Institute. Let the poor girl be remembered like that, at least... This vulcan, V'Tira, told me to accept that... signs from the beyond exist. That the departed can communicate with us, in a way. I don't know if it's true, or if it works both ways, but... T'Vin, if you are listening, I'm sorry. I promise, I will try to care for Otsuka and Jagoda the best I can, and we will honour your memory. Knowing you, for even such a short time, was a privilege. Also, I promise, I will tend to the Arboretum."
The klingon looks to the door, standing up straight, preparing to face his crew with the same logical professionalism as always.
"End Log."
The Klingon stopped speaking, then looked to the destruction in his room. Shattered tables, chairs, cabinets, glasses and plates. He frowned at it.
"I lost control of my emotions for the first time in a long while. I truly lost all control, but... T'Vin is gone. I have watched our song from Risa maybe ten times... I cannot believe this. Just a few months here, and I failed the department. These kids trust me, they are perhaps my only friends on this thrice-damned ship... And I could not even protect her. Maybe if I hadn't gone for Arfacio... That sounds cold. I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself if anything happened to Arfacio as well." Another long sigh followed, as T'Ghor went to pick up the flower he had given T'Vin, looking into it.
"I should have died on the Argentina. So many of my friends, my mate, and my captain dead... and yet, I was locked out of Sto'vo'kor by Valais. Now I have nothing left, not even honour. With every day that passes, the hope of rescuing the hostages from the Argentina diminishes. I most likely won't be able to keep my promise. Maybe my father was right. I am a pathetic excuse for a klingon. And yet, I cannot sit around and wait for death to claim me. I will work, every bit as hard as I have so far. So long as there is the smallest sliver of hope, it is my duty to try and grasp at it... This despair is what the Dark wants. This is what feeds her. I will allow myself some small mourning. I will live and work on. Even if it seems that every small bit of happiness has been denied to me forever. Some of the very few happy moments I have had since Bajor, T'Vin was present. Our song, the hot springs..." T'Ghor set the flower down, and went to the replicator, slowly starting to feed bits and pieces of broken furniture into it to recycle.
"I have finished the paper she had started, and renamed the Orchid in T'Vin's memory, as it was not officially named yet in her first draft. I sent it to the Institute. Let the poor girl be remembered like that, at least... This vulcan, V'Tira, told me to accept that... signs from the beyond exist. That the departed can communicate with us, in a way. I don't know if it's true, or if it works both ways, but... T'Vin, if you are listening, I'm sorry. I promise, I will try to care for Otsuka and Jagoda the best I can, and we will honour your memory. Knowing you, for even such a short time, was a privilege. Also, I promise, I will tend to the Arboretum."
The klingon looks to the door, standing up straight, preparing to face his crew with the same logical professionalism as always.
"End Log."