Nephryl's Personal Log
02 October 2146

For 11 Terran years, we have watched two young, idealistic species spill one another's blood. For 11 Terran years, we have waited for the two races to realize they have been manipulated. For 11 years, we have waited in vain. As I gaze upon the twin stars of my homeland, less than an hour away, I cannot help but wonder how much longer we must wait.

This impatience is borne of selfishness, I know. I have become attached to humans; in particular, to Robert Peters, my Atal'Va -- my beloved. My attachment to him, to the men and women of this station, and to humanity as a race, puts me at odds against my duty as an ambassador, for while our people must exercise the greatest of caution, my heart yearns to share itself with my friends.

I fear they would not believe the most important truths without solid evidence. I feel the malevolent influence of the Na'Tari behind this whole war between Ceti and humans, but both sides are too far engrossed in their war to search for truth now. That role must lie with Kentaurus and with my father, who even now searches our homeworld for answers. I am bound by oath not to share other oaths until such time as the humans ask me about them directly. Thus far, the questions have not arisen.

I can share Kentauran lore, however, including Kentauran prophecy. Ironically, while I could share this 600- year-old prophecy with Kim Masterson, I could not tell her that I wrote it.

I hope my father knows my faith in him. Time has grown short -- as the Ceti approach the humans' homeworld, the light fades to twilight, then to darkness. But if the eyes bless us, we may yet survive to celebrate the morning.