T'Kala's Personal Log
It is with great reluctance and procrastination that I chronicle the details of my mission, and it is only with the intent of deleting it that I am able to do so: for it is only after the many debriefing and counseling sessions that I am able to fully disclose what happened... but only for myself. Vulcans do not lie. How fortunate, then, that I am only half Vulcan. It is also my belief that my somewhat less than stellar record at Starfleet provided additional credibility to my story, and the "upper brass" seems content to believe a few cadets and I took a "joy-ride" and became tangled in a web of events beyond our control. While for the most part this is true, the true nature of our departure as well as the subsequent mission given by the TDI was omitted.
"Joy-ride... Upper-brass..." As these words leave my mouth, I am still unsure who said them. They remind me of Devon: his fondness for such colloquialisms and metaphors. However the words I use now are largely in part to my mission's objective: Eva Api-Lyron... But, I get ahead of myself...
Through the darkness, I remember calling out to Kabrina: visions of her flashing during my turbulent slumber. These thoughts were intermixed with intense feelings - more than I knew myself capable of. This flood of emotions: anger at being put in the position, anger at my mother, love for my mother and for my friends... Everything pouring into my being and lingering within the dream. I saw Devon: cried for him, was annoyed by him, yelled at him, held him. Then again, Kabrina: her lips pressed to mine, her warmth, her belief that Eva held the key for our future...
After slipping in and out of consciousness far beyond the capability of my enhanced TDI E.V. suit should allow, I finally awoke and tried to make sense of my surroundings. The inside of the shack was covered in Borg technology - as if it were actually in an extension of a Borg ship, and I felt the human emotion of panic-stricken fear when I discovered the technology connected to my body! My first reaction was to remove the invaders, but nothing would adhere to the commands given; I was completely paralyzed! The flood of emotions subsided as I cleared my mind; relying on Vulcan purging techniques and upon closer inspection, I realized the technology was keeping me alive.
A darker corner of the room, lit only from the light of a green electric circle revealed a silhouetted figure inspecting my ordeal. I attempted to speak to the being, but found only an electronic garbled voice resonated from what should my voice. I found the subject of my speech project itself through thought and flow at the silhouette, as though thought, itself, lingered in the air.
Both my pursuer and my rescuer, the being revealed itself to me slowly stepping out of the shadows. It was Eva, then slowly... it wasn't. First appearing to me (perhaps utilizing my cortical implant) the image of the way Eva appeared as she saw herself mesmerized my thoughts. However, the illusion quickly faded (perhaps due to Vulcan logic?) and a withered being appeared in her place.
Her clothes, ripped and torn, revealed skin devoid of color save the web of veins visible from underneath. Several tubular puncture wounds were visible, and Borg ocular implant surrounded a darkened eye. Her movement seemed erratic, slow and strenuous as she approached me. I felt no fear, but something different: pity, perhaps? empathy? for her condition. I felt such a need to help her, the thought hadn't occurred to me then that she existed this way due to her saving my life... I try not to think about that now. I must rely on logic to see that she understood I was her best hope of fulfilling her mission, even though it would mean forfeiting mine...
My mission: to save her. Her mission: to save us all.
"Joy-ride... Upper-brass..." As these words leave my mouth, I am still unsure who said them. They remind me of Devon: his fondness for such colloquialisms and metaphors. However the words I use now are largely in part to my mission's objective: Eva Api-Lyron... But, I get ahead of myself...
Through the darkness, I remember calling out to Kabrina: visions of her flashing during my turbulent slumber. These thoughts were intermixed with intense feelings - more than I knew myself capable of. This flood of emotions: anger at being put in the position, anger at my mother, love for my mother and for my friends... Everything pouring into my being and lingering within the dream. I saw Devon: cried for him, was annoyed by him, yelled at him, held him. Then again, Kabrina: her lips pressed to mine, her warmth, her belief that Eva held the key for our future...
After slipping in and out of consciousness far beyond the capability of my enhanced TDI E.V. suit should allow, I finally awoke and tried to make sense of my surroundings. The inside of the shack was covered in Borg technology - as if it were actually in an extension of a Borg ship, and I felt the human emotion of panic-stricken fear when I discovered the technology connected to my body! My first reaction was to remove the invaders, but nothing would adhere to the commands given; I was completely paralyzed! The flood of emotions subsided as I cleared my mind; relying on Vulcan purging techniques and upon closer inspection, I realized the technology was keeping me alive.
A darker corner of the room, lit only from the light of a green electric circle revealed a silhouetted figure inspecting my ordeal. I attempted to speak to the being, but found only an electronic garbled voice resonated from what should my voice. I found the subject of my speech project itself through thought and flow at the silhouette, as though thought, itself, lingered in the air.
Both my pursuer and my rescuer, the being revealed itself to me slowly stepping out of the shadows. It was Eva, then slowly... it wasn't. First appearing to me (perhaps utilizing my cortical implant) the image of the way Eva appeared as she saw herself mesmerized my thoughts. However, the illusion quickly faded (perhaps due to Vulcan logic?) and a withered being appeared in her place.
Her clothes, ripped and torn, revealed skin devoid of color save the web of veins visible from underneath. Several tubular puncture wounds were visible, and Borg ocular implant surrounded a darkened eye. Her movement seemed erratic, slow and strenuous as she approached me. I felt no fear, but something different: pity, perhaps? empathy? for her condition. I felt such a need to help her, the thought hadn't occurred to me then that she existed this way due to her saving my life... I try not to think about that now. I must rely on logic to see that she understood I was her best hope of fulfilling her mission, even though it would mean forfeiting mine...
My mission: to save her. Her mission: to save us all.
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