Uncategorized – Page 118

I forgot to post this, my second-place entry into the Vorgon Ryn’kodan carrier screenshot contest.

Day 452
M. Koril Personal Log
I.K.S. K’Tarn

After many failed attempts at conversation, I finally deduced that the
K’Tarn is part of a small fleet indirectly overseen by Klingon
Intelligence. I suspect that Captain Sarnog was affiliated, but I have
no way to confirm that. I’ve been thinking at length about this, and
wondering if it was a chance encounter, or if he was a contact, a
handler of sorts, testing me before recruitment? The Klingon agent on
Mol’Rihan certainly seemed to take an interest in my case. Why can I not
go two steps without becoming embroiled in the affairs of secret
organizations? Not that these are particularly dangerous affairs.

Mostly, we join diplomatic convoys to Deep Space Nine, or patrol the
space around Qo’noS. It has been many months since this ship has even
seen combat, let alone victorious combat. They have turned to fighting
each other. The chain of command changes so often that I am not even
certain of it at this moment.

Sylon has become somewhat better at
conversations. Late at night, when we are the only ones in our quarters,
she tells me her dream, “We will use our savings to buy a fast ship,
and go to a distant spaceport. I will become the owner of a shop there
that sells trinkets. You will fly away into the stars, away from the
Romulans and the Klingons and Starfleet, and we will both disappear.”

Quill seriously spends a lot of time on Nimbus III

It’s an eclipse! Or just a holographic captain on a surfboard…

When they said “you need to get closer to your crew” that’s not what they meant, Nyco

the former Twelve Percent, now renamed Milano

Day 450
M. Koril Personal Log
I.K.S. K’Tarn

I had the strangest dream the last time I slept. I was on a Federation starbase, or perhaps it was a ship. I was running, but whether it was away or toward something, I wasn’t sure. I just knew that I had to keep running. The hallway stretched and stretched, unending ahead and behind me. I was wearing that hideous black outfit that the Cardassian tailor gave me on Earth Spacedock. The air smelled faintly like a particular plant that grew in the Paehos Crater on New Romulus. I could hear voices shouting through the walls, muffled, accompanied by some sort of music that I can only describe as a wailing flute. Every detail of the dream was crystal clear, but when I woke up, I could not remember how I felt about any of it.

I suppose it is not significant, but it is intriguing.