Time

Mitara sits in her usual chair, scrolling through something on her datapad

Has it truly been a month since I last sat to record my thoughts? Where does the time go? Hmm, where to start... with corporate duties I suppose...

She folds her hands over her datapad and looks off through the portal window.

After the fall of Halmah, our military installation reporting system has become all the more important. The speed at which the Tribals took the system was frightening. My hope is that some pilots on the first shift after prayer time will take it upon themselves to do a full defensive sweep, so that we may have a better idea of how to plan the rest of the days patrols. Time will tell.

The corporate shop was launched to the excitement of some. There have been only minor tweaks to the systems that have been needed, so I am quite pleased with thus far. Commodore Piskonit was very unhappy with the amount of initial backing donated to seed the shop. The time line for price reductions and increasing the amount of stocked items will need to be stretched.

Her attention back to her datapad, giving it a few taps and scrolling through some type of list

I have very much out of touch with our roster. My time spent on systems work has made it difficult to keep much of a presence overseeing our junior officers or doing recruitment work. I have had opportunity to lead some small fleets, primary doing defensive and probing work.

She stops scrolling and raises an eyebrow toward the item displayed

LtJg Lianne... Though she still very much has a defiant streak in her, she has been a model Praetorian of late. She has been very dutiful in her patrols, and has volunteered readily for missions as they come up. The calm before the storm? I pray not.

Mitara places the datapad on the side table next to her. She shakes her head slightly and sighs

I ventured into the so called "PIE Peons Club" some of our junior officers have taken to hold up in during their down time. Apparently one of the Admirals former Arbitrator class vessels, it has been gutted and .... defaced. A little horrid shanty that I pray will never been seen by outside eyes.

A small smile forms on her lips and she again gazes out the portal window, looking lost in thought for a moment before again speaking

I invited Mr Shutaq to join me aboard the Utopian Dream for a change of scenery, and a chance to perhaps truly relax. We enjoyed some light lunch that I had prepared...

She smirks, "We both are alive to tell the tale..."

Good conversation was had as we snacked on the beach, looking out over the lake. I managed to convince Mr Shutaq to join me for a swim afterward. It was wonderful. Just two people sharing each others laughs and time. Not Captain nor Sephirot, nor thoughts of Tribal warships, nor stewardship duties. I would have liked it to last much longer. Alas, Mr Shutaq was the first to be brought back to our lives of servitude, and was called away.

I remained for a while, alone, recounting the day to help better remember it. Even doing so, the memory has already begun to erode... God's way of urging us to make new memories I imagine.