Personal/Transmission Log of Captain Jack Buchanan

[omn]

Transmission (Type: Personal Holo) from U.S.S. Okinawa to Bristol, United Kingdom.

wrote:

Jack rubs his eyes, smiling weakly towards the recorder. He looks more than a little worn out, and he clearly hasn't sought any medical attention for his broken nose.

"Hey, little girl. I'm sorry that I can't talk to you face to face right now. The relay networks are a bit.. backed up right now. I hope you and your aunt are doing well. Your sixteenth birthday is coming up, right? I promise I'll be there this time. I'll make it up to you for last year. I'll park the whole damn starship outside your mom's house if I have to. I promise, I'll be there."

He looks away for a moment. When he looks back, his eyes seem a little watery.

"Not a day goes by that I don't consider resigning my commission and just coming home. But.. I can't. You know that. I'm a Starfleet Officer, and that means that I can't come home until the job is done."

He pauses for a moment. "I love you, Ramona. You've been a better daughter to me than I've been a father to you. I hope you can forgive me for.. everything. Please respond soon."

[omn]

Personal Log, Stardate 90382.

wrote:

I wish I could have stayed in Bristol longer, honestly. It was good to see Ramona as happy as she was. Marion, too.

That doesn't mean it isn't good to be back aboard the Okinawa, however. She is, after all, my home. The refit is complete, and she's never ran better. I haven't gotten a chance to test out the new upgrades quite yet, but I'm especially eager to test out the new Tempest-Type phaser cannon. I've heard very, very good things about them. Lieutenant Quirvoy has informed me that there's been at least a twenty percent increase in the Warp Drive's efficiency, which is indeed impressive. The crew's eager to get underway, and so am I.

[omn]

Captain's log, Stardate 90426.1 wrote:

Following the ceasefire, we were reassigned to the Allied Joint Command- fighting the Voth and Undine. It's a good fit. The Okinawa runs circles around the Voth city ships, and the crew is aching give the Undine some payback for what they did. The sphere itself is.. well, it's interesting. Inexpressibly vast. Impossibly ancient. And some of the tech is more advanced than anything I've ever seen before.

Currently, we're docked at Deep Space Thirteen, picking up new crew and undergoing repairs before heading back into the Spire. We underwent major hull damage after rescuing a damaged Romulan vessel from a Voth ambush, earlier. We were lucky- no fatalities. A few injured, but they'll be alright. The Romulan ship got away, luckily. Minimal casualties from them, too.

I can get used to fighting alongside the Romulans. But the Klingons? I've spent the last six years of my life fighting on the Klingon front. I've lost too many good men to them for me to ever get used to working with them. I'm not saying the Klingons are evil- it's just.. well, I'm a stubborn bastard, and I don't know if I can do it.

[omn]

OOC Note: The events mentioned in this post are a follow up to the TNG-Era Beta Canon comic Disgrace. It's great and you should all read it.

Captain's Log, Stardate 90454.5 wrote:

Our mission in the Kafani Tibb system was a success. Or, rather, someone else had already succeeded. We arrived to find that the gateway on the planet's surface had already been closed, and the creatures from the rift had been killed, along with all other life on the planet's surface. We had to send a shuttle down to the surface- there was a significant amount of neutron radiation in the atmosphere that would have interfered with transporters. The gate itself was clearly not one of the basic ground-based gates; it was tremendous in size, and rounded. My science officer suspects that it was a space gate that somehow ended up in the path of the planet's orbit and had fallen to its surface; that would explain the heavy damage, and why, as we learned, how it ended up locked to a single destination.

It appears that we were not the only ones with an interest in the gate. We found the remains of a Tal Shiar team in the cavern that housed the gate. It appears that they had been sent with the intention of claiming the gate for themselves; but they, as we learned from their logs, soon changed their minds. They activated some sort of mass neutron purge, killing them, the creatures, and all life on the planet's surface, including most of those who had managed to survive the creature's onslaught. We managed to find a few survivors, but.. They're not.. all there. I don't know if it's shock or PTSD, or if they just.. snapped.

I can't imagine what they went through. These creatures were apparently so terrifying the Tal Shiar would not risk allowing their spread.

We've returned to Deep Space Thirteen, where we'll remain for the next few days. After that, we'll be proceeding back into the Sphere.

[omn]

Personal Log, Stardate 90476.6 wrote:

Marion's aboard Deep Space Thirteen. She's going to be part of the team that examines the captured Undine Vessel. I.. don't know why I didn't expect it, honestly. She's one of the Federation's brightest, and she's got more than a passing interest in the Undine. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

We've been.. avoiding each other, to say the least. We never fight when Ramona's around, but she's back home, so it's probably best that we keep our distance. We wouldn't have to if she wasn't such an awful person, but that's just kind of how she is. Honest, we should probably work our shit out some day, but that's not happening any time soon.

[omn]

Transmission (Type: Personal Video) from U.S.S. Okinawa to Bristol, United Kingdom wrote:

Jack looks into the camera, the corners of his lips slowly curling into a smile. Judging by the background, this is recording from his quarters, rather than, say, his ready room. He looks a little tired, but happy.

"Hey, little girl. I know you're probably really busy right now- getting ready for school and all that. I understand. You've got to do well this year- especially if you want to get into the Academy." He looks off for a moment. "On that subject- if you really want to go to the Academy- stop arguing with your mother about it. It'll just piss her off. If you're.. polite about it, she.. well, she won't be happy about it, but she's a rational human being, most of the time. Or, at least, sometimes. Very rarely? Okay, not very often. But she loves you- and she'll support you. You just have to give her time to cool down."

He leans back in his chair.

"I hope you can visit Deep Space Thirteen sometime soon. You'd love it. Very diverse- lots of people to talk to. Absolutely stellar for people-watching." He leans forward again. "I love you. Message me back soon."

[omn]

Captain's Log, Stardate 90749.4 wrote:

The Okinawa's scheduled Baryon Sweep has finished; after some minor repairs and refits, she'll be space-worthy again. That should take, at most, another week or so. After that, we'll be heading to join up with the expeditionary force in the Delta Quadrant. We'll be taking the Deep Space 13 Conduit through to the Khitometer Aperture, and then from there we'll take the Jouret Gate through the Sphere, into the Delta Quadrant. From what I understand, there's a lot to be done in that region of space, and a fast, quiet ship like the Okinawa fits the bill.

Visari's been very, very worked up about some minor engine upgrades they're installing; she's insisting on overseeing every part of the upgrade personally. I honestly can't tell whether she's excited or upset about the upgrades, though it's clear she's uncomfortable with DS13 techs getting their hands in her baby's engine. She's convinced they're going to muck things up. I've tried to convince her that everything's going to be okay, but she's a stubborn creature. Still, I've learned to trust her judgement. I'll make sure to check in afterward to make sure everything went fine.

Personal Log, Stardate 90749.4 wrote:

My week has been.. interesting. Let's see- Ramona is very, very upset with me. She's convinced that either her mother is bribing me somehow or that I've gone insane. Probably both. However, the truth's much more mundane. I don't think Starfleet's right for her. She wants to explore strange new worlds and learn knew things, and I'm not sure Starfleet's the place to do that anymore. I'm a soldier- my place is here. But- when I look into her eyes, I see.. well, I see what we once were. And I don't want her to get that kicked out of her. Her heart's set on it, though. Regardless of how we feel about it, neither me nor her mother can actually stop her from joining Starfleet. And who knows- maybe she'll help remind the rest of Starfleet what we used to be- and what, hopefully, someday, we can be again.

Aurelia's avoiding me. Some time ago, I may have drunkenly suggested we kiss, but that's not it. She wasn't upset about that afterward. Honest to god, I think she may be sore about the sparring match. I won, and that probably isn't sitting well with her. By all means, she probably should have won. But she didn't. I mean, sure, I neglected to mention that my usual sparring partner is Half-Romulan, and perhaps during the fight I may have egged her on just a tad too much. But still. The woman's.. inscrutable. When we're speaking alone, she's one person, with others, someone else.

I need to stop making snide comments about McCarthy, regardless of how much I dislike the man. It's going to get me into trouble.

[omn]

Itinerary, Duration: Stardate 90823 (Now) - Stardate 90935.3 (Early December)
Source: CO Jack Buchanan's Personal Console; FWD Ramona Sitwell

wrote:

• 90839.4 - Departure, Deep Space Thirteen
• 90844.9 - Arrival, Alsuran Sector
• 90850.4 through 90886 - Scouting, Alsuran Sector
• 90897 - Departure, Alsuran Sector
• 90902.4 - Arrival, Deep Space Thirteen
• 90918.9 Departure aboard Shuttle Esseles, Deep Space Thirteen
• 90935.3 - Arrival, Earth, Begin Holiday Leave

[omn]

Personal Log, Stardate 90934.3 wrote:

Jack sits at a desk, rubbing his nasal bridge. It's not his desk- or, rather, it's not his usual desk. Too clean; everything looks crisp, sharp, new. Unlike the desk, he looks.. disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up, his beard's looking a little scruffier than usual, and his eyes are a little bit bloodshot. Judging by the timestamp, he should be asleep right now. He looks into the camera into the camera, looking.. not thrilled. There's a sizable period of silence.

"Do you hear that?"

He pauses for a moment, "Of course you don't. You can't. I can't. Because it isn't there," He sighs, shifting his gaze downward,"On the Okinawa- there was this.. quiet hum- you could hear it when we were at warp. Quirvoy says it was the resonator coils in the drive core oscillating. Bugged the hell out of me when I was first assigned to the ship. Drove me crazy. But- I got used to it. They got rid of that noise, though, with the newer ships- the newer escorts. Well, you know what?"

"I was so used to that noise- that hum- that damned humming noise- that now I can't sleep without it," He laughs, looking back to the camera. "I asked for something for it from Vergen- but apparently there are regulations against the commanding officer of a starship taking that type of medication while we're in an active combat zone- can't have me sleeping through an attack, I guess."

"Ship doesn't move right, either. She's fast- faster than the Okinawa- but with the placement of the engines- she doesn't bank as well. The Okinawa could pull turns that would shear a lot of ships half her size in half. The Dresden- she's.. Quirvoy says we'll be able to make some adjustments, but I don't think it'll ever be the same."

He sighs.

"It's all.. wrong. Everything about this goddamn ship is wrong. She doesn't sound right. She doesn't fly right. She doesn't shoot right."

[omn]

Personal Log, Stardate 91212.4 wrote:

"A bloody mess, is what this is."

Jack rubs his beard.

"Karath requested a transfer to Bravo Station. Which I get. The man wants to be with his husband. Unfortunately, that leaves me without a Chief Science Officer. There are a few candidates, but nobody who isn't going to need additional training to qualify. Bau's looking like the best choice at the moment, but he also can't deal with people for shit."

He looks down from the camera, taking a sip from a half-full steuben glass. Scotch, probably. His hand tilts back and forth, causing the ice to klink about in the glass.

"Marion is engaged. The Bolian. Korris. Met him when I stayed at her place over the holidays. Insisted on cooking breakfast every morning. Not actually a very good cook. Anyway, It's not a huge deal. Not really my business who she's getting busy with. Plus, Ramona likes him, which means that he's probably not a horrific person."

He sets the scotch down on the desk beside him, swiveling his chair back and forth a tad.

"Aurelia seems to be holding together fairly well for someone who just lost a friend. She's like me, though, which means the fact that she has plenty of work to throw herself into is probably a plus." He pauses, wincing. "I'm going to sit here and pretend I didn't just segue directly from my ex-wife to the Subcommander."

Jack rubs his nasal bridge, looking up, off camera a bit. "Computer, music. Something from my collection."

The computer obliges. He starts to nod his head in tune with the drums. The guitar comes in, earning a smile from the tired Captain.

Some folks are born, maaade to wave the fla-ag, ooh, they're red white and blue!

"Computer, end recording."

[omn]

Personal Log, Stardate Whenever wrote:

I hate everyone.

[omn]

Personal Log, Stardate 91259 wrote:

"Dinam." Jack rubs his beard, taking a moment, chewing on the word. There's music playing in the background, though nothing loud enough to overpower his voice. As per the usual, twenty-first century classic rock. His duty jacket is unzipped, and his sleeves have been rolled up to just under his elbows. There's a short, half-filled glass on the table in front of him.

"Brother." He leans back in his chair. "S'what she called me- what Aurelia called me. It means.. a great deal." He looks to the ground. "There was something about the way she said it, though. Maybe I'm just imagining things, but-,"

"You don't sneak off to a secluded corner of the station to tell someone that you think of them as family."

A hand moves up, fingers rubbing his nasal bridge. He lets out a sigh.

"Aurelia. Subcommander Aurelia t'Veras. Hell of a woman. Brilliant, dedicated, brave. And I'll admit- I care about her. But.." He leans forward, lowering his hand. "I don't know. There was a time when I would have been glad about this, but now? I'm not so sure."

He picks up the half-filled glass, tipping it into his mouth, downing the violet liquid.

"Computer, end recording."

[omn]

Personal Log, Stardate 91349.8 wrote:

"Seven dead. Seven innocent bystanders." Jack takes a long drink from a flask, sighing. "But we caught the Ferengi."

"My heart should be heavier. Seven people got caught in the crossfire. But we caught an infiltrator, and we've got new leads on Aurelia's missing persons case. The infiltrator could provide us with information that could save thousands of lives. It's practically an intelligence coup." Jack leans forward in his chair, setting the flask on the table.

"When did I become that kind of person? When did I decide it was worth it to sacrifice seven innocent people for intel? That's not me."

Jack rubs his beard, looking to the ground. "It shouldn't be me."

[omn]

A snippet of a conversation between Captain Buchanan and his first officer, Tessa Nakimura.

wrote:

"Please tell me that's not actually what you told her, boss."

Silence, broken by Jack's fists slamming into the dummy in rapid succession.

"So, let me get this straight. You're in love with this woman."

Another punch lands on the dummy.

"Probably."

Another, and another.

"And she's in love with you."

Jack's eyebrow raises. He knees the dummy.

"Apparently."

Another series of hits.

"And you idiots have been dragging this out for-"

Jack pauses, looking to his half-breed first officer with a distinct lack of amusement. "Get to the point, Tess."

"My point is that both of you are stupid. Why not just go for it?"

"Because no matter how much it pisses everyone involved both off, I was right. It's a bad idea. There's no version of me and her together that ends well."

"Love is usually a bad idea, Jack. That's what makes it fun."

"I hate this. All I ever wanted to do was be friends. But no, I, Jack Buchanan, am psychologically incapable of handling emotions with any sort of tact or skill."

"Your words, boss."

Jack sighs, pinching his nasal bridge.

"What's wrong with me, Tess?"

"A bunch of stuff. You're an huge idiot, for one."

[omn]

Holocall 53453B, Earth to DS13 wrote:

"I'm coming, dad, and that's final."

"You're not."

"Why not?"

"So, so many reasons, Ramona. There's a war on!"

"Pfft. You just don't want me to meet her."

"That's not true."

"Dad and Aurelia, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-"

Jack palms his face. "I've created a monster."

"I'm coming! You do realize that you can't actually stop me, right? I live on my own."

Jack sighs. "I know. I am trying to convince you not to come."

"Come on, dad. I want to meet this extraordinary woman who has so captured my father's affections."

"You're a dork."

"I get it from you."

"Fine, you giant dork."

"Yes!" The young woman on the other end of the line does a little dance, pumping her arms up and down, in celebration.

"I love you, you dorkus."

"Love you too, dad."

[omn]

Personal Log, Stardate 91738.2 wrote:

Haven't recorded one of these in awhile. Been busy. Best recap, then.

World's ending. No real way around that. We lost a hell of a lot of people during the attack on the sphere, and.. it just keeps getting worse. There's a chance we make it out of this alive, but it's getting smaller and smaller every minute. I can feel it- and it's not just me. Everybody can feel it. No matter how this ends- good or bad- it ends soon.

Speaking of.. important.. things? I guess? I gave the ring to Aurelia. Mom's ring. She said yes. Wasn't as dramatic as I was planning, but we're running out of time, and I figured it might give us both something extra to fight for, beyond the continued survival of galactic civilization and all that. So.. there's that. I am.. engaged.

If we make it out of this, I'm going to be a married man. Crazy stuff.

There's a long pause.

Rellir lost her ship in the attack on the Sphere, and.. she's in critical condition. Her and I haven't.. historically gotten along, but I've never really blamed that on her, no matter how it sounds sometimes. She's stuck between a rock and a hard place.

I hope she makes it. Not just for Aurelia's sake- but because she's a good woman, and a damn fine commander, and, if all goes well- hopefully, someday.. an in-law.

[omn]

Personal Log, Stardate 91767.3 wrote:

Jack gently rubs at his beard- something he's prone to doing, typically without meaning to. Nobody will ever say that he doesn't take full advantage of the opportunities afforded to him by his facial hair. He takes a moment, swiveling his chair, taking in his surroundings. For the second time in just over a year, he is settling into a new ship, recording his logs from a strange, new, unusually clean desk.

"Hardly knew her. The Dresden, I mean. Didn't really get the chance. Little over a year. She was a good boat, though. Sure, the Phantom-Class was an over-designed, gimmicky piece of garbage, but.. she was our over-designed, gimmicky piece of garbage." He lets out a weak laugh. "I'm going to miss her."

"The Robau is.. different. She may look fresh, but under the shiny new coat of paint? This girl's got old bones. Haven't served on a ship this old in a long time."

"Unfortunately, she's.. kind of a mess, presently. Of its original one-hundred-and-fifty training crew, around a hundred survived the final push towards Earth. Of that lot, only fifty or so accepted permanent positions on the ship- plus the surviving command staff."

He sighs.

"Integration could be going better. Commander Val-Koran, my new Xindi-Reptillian security chief? Lovely individual, and for once, I say that entirely without sarcasm. Personable, friendly, and as far as I can tell, good at his job. Unfortunately, he is apparently the exception to the rule. Commander Ahmadi, my new Tactical officer, would probably make a better example."

Jack rubs his beard. 'Commander Ahmadi isn't adjusting well to the new crew, or to his new commanding officer, and he's not the only one. A lot of the ship's original crew- cadet or otherwise- aren't dealing with the losses from the attack well. And who could blame them? Still- it's something I'm going to have to deal with moving forward."

"The ship itself is in surprising fine condition for the losses it sustained. It's spaceworthy, but some of the repairs are.. ongoing. MVAM is still offline, and as far as I can tell, will continue to be for awhile. She's been through a lot. She's going to need a while to recover, but.."

"I think we can do this."

[omn]

The tail end of a.. discussion in the U.S.S. Robau's Ready Room, roughly 0800 hours.

Quote:

"Permission to speak candidly, sir?"

"Granted."

"You coddle your crew. You treat them like they are above reproach. You let them get away with things no Captain should allow. That is why we do not get along with your crew. That is why we are frustrated. I admit, we are not entirely innocent in the matter. But we are not exclusively at fault, Captain. I ask that you consider this."

Captain Buchanan ran a hand across his stubbled dome, shifting his jaw to the side and back, considering. For a moment, it looked as if the Commander was going to continue speaking, but Jack raises a hand in a halting motion. Commander Ahmadi looked a little confused, but didn't press any further.

"Dismissed, Commander Ahmadi. I'll take what you've said under consideration.”

“I.. Yes. Captain."

Commander Ahmadi slipped out, and Jack slouched in his chair, rubbing his scruffy beard in silence. He glanced across his desk, resisting the urge to distract himself with wedding plans or miscellaneous reading, an act that took no small amount of effort on his part.

He let out a sigh. Ahmadi was right, at least partially. He had been lax. He, and most of the former crew of the Dresden- they'd together through two ships; through thick and thin- hell, they had faced Armageddon together. They were like family. They were tight-knit. He treated them like they were above reproach because.. in his mind, they were above reproach; therein laid the issue.

Jack pinched his brow, leaning his head back, resting his neck on the chair's cushion. It was something he had to deal with, and soon.

---

Around 1400 hours, on the bridge of the U.S.S. Robau.

Quote:

Jack adjusted his posture, resulting a little bit of a squeak from the admittedly rather comfortable leather chair. His hand drifted down, to the left, tapping a command into the interface. Broadcast, ship-wide. He started to enter his command code, making a brief misstep, forgetting- new ship, new codes. He straightened his back, offering a brief glance around the bridge, before finally tapping the ‘broadcast’ command.

“Crew, this is your Captain speaking. A matter has been brought to my attention- something I need to address.”

The ensign at the ship's helm turned his head, looking to the Captain, quietly perking an eyebrow. Jack's eyes flicked over to the stocky, auburn-headed young man for just a moment. One of the Robau's original crew- Ensign Burke.

“While a rough transition was to be expected, this.. this row- has gone on long enough. A ship cannot function divided.”

He rubbed his beard. “Starting today, you- all of you- will start treating each other with respect and with tact. If you do not, you will be removed from this crew. We are professionals, not children. Starfleet Officers. That means a lot of things, but most importantly of all, it means that we're damned good at putting our differences aside and getting the job done, understand?"

"You will work together, as one crew, or you will not serve on my ship. You will treat each other with respect, or you will not serve on my ship."

Jack paused to take a breath, and, hopefully, to allow what he's said to sink in.

"On a related note, starting today, I will tolerate no disrespect or insubordination from any of you. It doesn't matter how long we've served together, or what you think of me. I am not your pal. I am not your kindly father figure. I am not here to coddle you. I am your captain, and you will treat me with respect, or you will not serve on my ship."

"If you have any questions, concerns, or criticism, please, do not hesitate to bring them up with me. However, if you are, for whatever reason, incapable of acting with the level of professionalism and tact expected of Starfleet Officers, then file a transfer, and get the hell off my ship."

He tapped a command intp the interface on his command console, between his chair and his first officer's, ending the ship-wide broadcast. He then paused for a moment, before looking back about the room.

Judging by the looks he was receiving, he had gotten his point across just fine.

[omn]

Captain's Log, Stardate 91941.1 wrote:

"..I suppose I should probably explain the situation at hand."

Jack takes a sip from a rather festive-looking mug; it appears to be emblazoned with the image of a Constitution-class Cruiser, wrapped in holiday lights, pulling a sleigh carrying a jolly-looking, white-bearded Bolian across the stars. What, exactly, is inside the mug is somewhat unclear, but knowing Jack, it's one of three things: Coffee, Hot Cocoa, or Either of Those Other Two Things Spiked With Hard Liquor.

"The Arethans, the native, just barely warp-capable inhabitants of Orecon II, are sitting on an abundance of Dilithium, safely tucked away deep in the crust of their fourth moon. Having recently discovered exactly how lucky this makes them, they've correctly surmised the wonders this could do for both their economy and their astropolitical standing, and want to begin mining, using, and selling this subterranean stockpile.."

"Which would be all well and good, if the first alien race they encountered been literally anybody other than the Ferengi. The first extra-terrestrial beings they met, a group of Ferengi representing the Qauntos Corporation, threw them a lavish party aboard their ship, regaled them with tales of the cosmos, and then explained to them that the galaxy was a dangerous place, and that they would need protection- protection the Ferengi owned-and-run Quantos Corporation would be more than happy to provide."

"In exchange for exclusive mining rights to the planet's fourth moon."

Jack sighs, rubbing his face.

"Were it up to me, the Arethans would get their moon back, and the Ferengi would each get socked in the nose once for being awful, awful people. However, I'm told that is not at all how interstellar trade law works, and that I'm to assist the two parties in coming to an amicable solution beneficial to both."

Jack looks.. unamused. "Going to be a long couple of days."

[omn]

Personal Log, Stardate 92004.4 wrote:

Trumpets whistle back and forth. The deep, smooth voice of Johnny Cash permeates the gaps in the brass. Captain Jack Buchanan leans back in his chair, his feet crossed on his desk. He tosses a PADD onto his desk, using his suddenly free hand to rub his facial hair in consideration.

"D'kera Mandukar. What a goddamn shitshow."

The hand stroking his beard shifts up, briefly rubbing his eye before dropping to his side.

"Aurelia, Rellir, Davin. All of them want her dead. And, to be perfectly honest, they're not wrong. D'kera deserves to die for what she's done. Aurelia wants to kill D'kera herself. Which I get, I really, really do. But.."

He looks off.

"The Republic is built upon the dream that the Romulan people can do better. That they need not fall into the old ways again. But dreams are fragile things. One choice won't break the dream, but.."

There's a long pause, and Jack's eyes drift to the floor of his ready room. Johnny R. Cash is more than happy to fill the silence.

"Death by a thousand cuts is still a death. D'kera can't be.. assassinated by members of the Republic. I can't let that happen. They have to be better than that."

"In a perfect world, she would be captured and would stand trial for her crimes. She would face execution, not assassination. But.. that's not going to happen. There are too many pieces moving, too many chances for her to escape. They tried that already, and it brought us here."

Jack leans forward, taking a wiff of a mug that's been sitting on his desk for longer than he cares to admit. He makes a face- it's been there a bit too long. He lets out a sigh.

"She can't be captured, and I can't let my friends kill her in cold blood. I can't. There has to be a third option. There has to be a way out."