PRESENT TIME- Star Date 71805
As I thought upon these painful memories, I realized I had not included an explanation for this mission in any of my reports. Several weeks ago, the Federation starship, the USS Remington discovered that a Romulan warbird was eyeing up several Federation outposts near the Neutral Zone. The Federation has sent false transmissions to the Romulan Empire to fool them into thinking that a highly desired drug, which they have wanted for years, is being stored there. Two escorts and I will go aboard the warbird as Romulan soldiers with the drugs, which are nothing more than vials filled with a dye-injected sleep-inducing drug. We are to stay in the Romulan Empire selling these drugs until they send us word through an old friend who is a House Minor on Romulus that it is safe to return and they have the information they want. As I sit writing these reports, I realize that my mind has begun the process of reverting back to my days on Hellguard. A single sound in the middle of the night was enough to make me reach for my Honour Blade, which I have not carried with me for years. A whisper in the hall or a touch unsolicited makes me turn around and glare at the offender. These...emotional bursts come sporadically, but I am trying to maintain control over them until we reach the outpost. I cannot allow my emotions to put this mission in jeopardy. Not yet.
In order to make these reports easier to understand and read, I have decided to switch the recounting of my memories in third person to first person. It is true these will not be sent to Starfleet Command until we are underway on the warbird, but it will make it easier for me as well to recount them to you if I put myself on that terrible planet again.
MEMORY 3- Saavik, age 7
It was the middle of a starry night. I was almost asleep when I heard a strange humming noise. Figuring it was just the stupid older boys getting ready for the annual lighting of explosives, I pulled the ragged sheet I called a blanket over my head and tried to go back to sleep. But when I heard the floorboards creaking and moaning, I pulled the blanket around my neck and looked around. I saw shapes floating in the darkness, materializing in golden beams of light. They began speaking to one another. I left my sleeping place and crept softly to a different hiding place above them in the rotting rafters. I was afraid; the men who usually beamed down were cruel and enjoyed the sport of watching us fight over the scraps of food they gave us. As I crawled along, one of the boards fell apart beneath my feet. Just as I fell through the air, a hand reached out and grabbed me and pulled me to safety. I turned to see who had pulled me back up and gazed into the face of one of my favourite older boys; Ruanek. I gave him a feral grin. We crept back to a place across the room from my sleeping niche. The men were holding peculiar looking pieces of metal aloft in the air. They emitted bleeping noises and were all lit up with little tiny moving flashing lights.
One of the men was dressed in a bright yellow shirt and black pants and had a head of golden hair with a touch of brown mixed in. Another two men who were both dressed in blue shirts and black pants stood to either side of him. The man to the right was a man with graying hair and sharp, piercing blue eyes. The other was completely different. He had curved ears like mine and immaculately kept black hair and upturned eyebrows. He looked very much like Ruanek, but taller and older and his dark eyes told of great knowledge. He looked so much like the cruel men that I involuntarily let out a gasp. Ruanek clapped his hand over my mouth and hit me, hard. The men shone their lights into our hiding place, catching us right in the middle of all three beams of yellow light.
"RUN!" Ruanek shouted in our language, a subset of the common Romulan tongue.
I tried to run as fast as I could, but my legs would not work properly. The tall Romulan-looking man practically threw his light at the other two men and caught me, holding me fast. But I was quick and managed to land a good deep bite into his arm. I could see the blood beginning to flow. He said nothing and did not release me. That made me angry. I wriggled around like a fish on a hook. Kicking, screaming, scratching and biting, I focused all of my energy on freeing myself. But there was no escaping the strong grasp of the tall man. What he did next surprised me most. He spoke. But he didn't just speak his language, he spoke mine.
"Do not thrash about so. Struggling will not help your situation. I am Spock of Vulcan. We are from the Federation. I am here to take you to a ship above with the other inhabitants of this planet. We will give you medical care and food." I had not stopped struggling until I heard the last word. I was so hungry. I knew he might be lying but to get food was a rare thing.
"Food." It was all I could manage to say because of how tight he had been holding me and because of how kind his eyes looked.
"Yes, little one. Food." His eyes sparkled with sadness and the vast knowledge he had accumulated. He held me tightly, but so that I could not get away. We looked out over the city of rubble and then in a twinkle it was gone.