A collection of etchings carved into stone pillars in an otherwise empty space.
Dear Willamina,
If you are reading this then I choose to believe that you found the small slot in the carving I gave you.
Firstly, let me say that my time in Blueberry was nothing if not pleasant. Your kindness and the kindness of other workers was a warmth I did not believe I could feel ever again. However, I fear that in return I have only brought about destruction.
My desire to return to my home led me to share some of my knowledge of technology with your people, but I failed to account for the fact that that very same technology that I intended to help and serve could bring about so much suffering and hardship.
I failed to account for ambition... mine and that of your people, and in so doing I fear I may have only hurt you.
I have shared many stories about my history, and my planet. Then allow me to share one more. The story of the day my planet died.
There was a ship, a ship that passed by my planet... this ship carried a dangerous cargo... if I had let this ship go, hundreds of planets would have suffered... So I destroyed it, tore it from the sky with my blade and sent it crashing down to the surface...
I thought there were no survivors...
I was wrong...
The monsters... they emerged from the ship and began to slaughter every living thing they saw on my planet. They collected items, tools, weapons, devices not unlike the ones I imparted to your people. They took them and turned them on those I swore I would protect. Their ambition fueled their genocide across my world. The lizard men screamed as their flesh burned. The templars lay broken from a storm of bullets. The wisps hummed a final note before their masks were cleaved in twaine by sawblades. The monsters took anything they found and turned them into weapons of war. Their slaughter continued until only I was left to stand between them and the rest of the universe.
I...
I wish I could say I was victorious in that fight...
but I wasn't...
I do not know why the monsters spared me. Why they chose to show mercy after such gruesome acts of violence.
Perhaps they wished for me to suffer more then I already had? Perhaps I wasn't worth the effort to kill. Either way, I was left alone on a dead planet with nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company.
And now, as I am writing this, I see those same tools again in a place that is still young and full of life. A place that has no knowledge of their dangers and their consequences. I see them, and I know that I am the reason they are there, and I worry what those with unchecked ambition will do when they gain access to them. I know the foreman sold the blueprints, I know there is no real chance to undo what has been done. I just hope that history does not repeat itself.
Perhaps one day I can return... perhaps it will not be too late... perhaps I can fix the problems I have brought upon you...
I hope I can...
I hope you do not hate me...
Take care Willamina...
Temperance Providence