| Date | 2421-07-20 |
| Filed by | Captain Zaliel Sel |
| Recording Location | Captain’s Ready Room |
The captain sat on the couch in her Ready Room, a thermos in her hands. She looked out at the ship as it traveled at warp. Stars streaked by like waves on a sailing ship, the Brahe’s bulk cruising smoothly through calm waters.
“I’m finally coming down from my inadvertent run in with Salek’s mind,” she finally said. “For the last few days I’ve felt an almost debilitating guilt over every trivial mistake in my life. Things I thought were long buried came bubbling up.” As she spoke, her face turned away from the camera, Zaliel’s voice was distant as if the ship were just catching up to it.
”I’d talk to our new counselor, but I think he has his hands full with both Salek and his newest creation. Having Robin—or something like Robin—back is hard. I remember when she died, I couldn’t get away from the memory fast enough. After two years I realize how foolish running away was: I never really faced what happened. Certainly,” she dabbed her eyes. “Certainly, I cried and felt guilt. And I won’t pretend to miss her reports or the negative attention they drew from Command. I just—she didn’t deserve to die.”
The captain blew her nose. It was a loud, honking affair that rang in her ears long after her handkerchief was discarded. “We rendezvoused with the Pollux yesterday and transferred some persons over. I don’t want to get into why they were here—frankly, I’m happy to forget the whole incident. Cannibals!” she shuddered. “As if there weren’t enough nightmares already on this ship.”
”We’re proceeding on course for Stellar Cluster SG-10169: an uncharted area of densely packed stars just beyond Federation space. I’m looking forward to this extended mission with only limited contact with Command.” A pause, “I don’t know how to put this, but Admiral Shuun is…weird. I just have this feeling the man is not entirely honest in his motivations—more so than most Admirals I’ve worked for.”
Zaliel finally took a sip from the thermos, then nearly spit it out. “Blech! Cold chai!” she cursed. “I suppose that’s a good place to end this—cold chai and vague paranoia…I should call Marc.”