09-14-2026, 05:42 PM
Shortly after the Red Alert-klaxxon had sounded and the ship had shifted its condition, Art would get a message marked "critical", from Peter:
[It has been an honor, my love. I love you, and will see you in Sto-vo-kor where I'll kick the doors in to find you if necessary. Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam!]
That was the message. It wasn't - unlike what Peter's normal inclination would be - a long, impassioned diatribe of a poetic declaration. It was short, and to the point, but recognizably Peter's style.
It was clear that he did not expect to survive the the day, nor even the hour. Whether or not that belief was justified, however, was of course not clear. The day was not over yet.
[It has been an honor, my love. I love you, and will see you in Sto-vo-kor where I'll kick the doors in to find you if necessary. Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam!]
That was the message. It wasn't - unlike what Peter's normal inclination would be - a long, impassioned diatribe of a poetic declaration. It was short, and to the point, but recognizably Peter's style.
It was clear that he did not expect to survive the the day, nor even the hour. Whether or not that belief was justified, however, was of course not clear. The day was not over yet.