Log: 6000000.9.16, Personal, Captain Yormdrill

  Sneaky is getting used to speaking in our quarters maybe? He speaks very softly, which makes sense after his story. Or at least the beginning of it. I regret to say that I'm more than a little curious about what happened next. To have lost so much before even his Halfway. Stars, I ache to think about it. It wasn't our course to continue, which was well because he said he needed to take a few days respite before continuing. As for me, I had some legal issues to sort out. For instance, Sneaky being a person, but registered as a shipboard pet on the manifest. Or maybe the subpoena that came in once I connected to the planetary interstelnet node. Apparently I was being called in as a witness at my earlliest possible convienience. Trevdi had to completely change her trades and sales to turn around and head back to our last stop. Of course that government won't reimburse us for the loss. Governments never do.

  Which meant I spent my day at the on station records office. Oh joy. Which means I missed the "Battle of Residential Level 4 Recreation Area B," which is a dreadful name for a park. It was very fun to explain that Sneaky wasn't doing this himself because his guestrite was still in effect rather than watch my kids have a game of darts against the stationer kids. I hate bureaucracy.

  Stars, I hope we get the trial handled quickly. I'll have to talk about it with Sneaky later. Since he's a sapient being, and a registered castaway under the protection of The Star Sailors. Void take it, these barbarians refuse to recognize the guestrite protecting him from dealing with this piece of light forsaken desolation.

  Dear Diary,

  Looks like I'm not the only one who needs a little time to process. When I asked Sneaky is okay this morning, he said "Today is a fun day. Let the heavy stuff settle and decide what you think when you're centered." I'm not sure what he meant, but it makes sense I guess? I feel like I'm on choppy water in a little skiff but like in the background?

  I think Yoiv snuck up and listened to Sneaky's story, he was EXTRA huggy with him this morning, but Sneaky didn't mind. Except for when he was trying to eat. "I don't need a diet, Little Brother. I'm not fat." It's amazing that he can tell jokes. Anyway, Sneaky had a plan for having fun that involved me helping him post something on the stations message board. It seemed overly aggressive to me, but he said that it was the best way to get more players in the game.

  Well, it WAS fun. I got "killed" before the game was over, but that was okay because I helped Sneaky get the picnic ready for the other kids. He put a lot of thought into the "battle," and the "feast" at the end. He told this story from his cradle world about a place worthy warriors go when they die called "Vall-hall-ah" where the warriors practice fighting every day and feast every night in preparation to fight against the end of the world. He probably toned it down for the kids, I know the stories from our ancient past have a lot more killing and monsters in them than he said.

  I still feel uncertain, but maybe I can get my oars in. Anger and compassion, and what happened to a friend I accidentally adopted. A third star.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Journal Entry: 20. Date: 1/3/5. Name: Greg George

  I didn't have any nightmares, not even the vague kind that just leaves behind the feeling of having a bad dream. Maybe my "good place" wasn't actually good, but just not shit?

  Anyway, xenos almost bacon is pretty good, and Lucy helping me post an open challenge to a war are a balm to my soul. "We are coming to take Residential Level 4 Recreationally Area B defend it if you have the guts. The rules of engagement are low V marking foam dart weaponry only, no brand restrictions. One mark "wounds" which means the player must sit or lay on the ground, but may still fire, and can be "saved" by a teammate using "medkits" which can just be damp sponges. Two marks is "dead" which means the player must either lay down and play dead, or leave the field of play to watch with the parents and other spectators. The battle begins at 13:00 station time. Fight us if you dare. Any attempts at cheating will result in the cheater being dragged off the field by our proctor by their ear or equivalent." I was the proctor.

  So we gathered up a picnic that would have a high probability of being safe for any potential players, and gathered up our team. Everybody was eager to play (kids) or watch (parents). I gave the kids a map of the park and told them that I would just be making sure that there was no cheating, they had to come up with their own plan. "I want you to win, of course, so do your best." The weird thing is how popular these dart guns are, but there were no organized games. Well, it's not like the concept is new, but they'd fallen out of favor. I know how to fix that. Intentionally wound the entire station's pride. That should get us some players.

  I need to start training some NCOs. I have about a platoon, and the squads work well, and the older kids end up taking command roles, but they don't know what commands to give to win. Trouble is, they were up against like three companies, so they had a hard time of it. Just volume of fire alone inflicted casualties, and depleted their damp sponges, but my kids fired from cover, moved with supporting fire, and executed flanking maneuvers, while the enemy children just stood out in the open and shot at anything that wasn't one of them. The one cheater was one of those floofy teddy bear people, and though she stood head and shoulders above me, it was easy to ear drag her to her obviously disappointed father. Who didn't speak Bleivusese. Pops's brother was there to translate though.

  We had an awkward conversation about how I'm an adult and that's why I'm proctoring and not stomping the stationer kids with my superior training and experience with Pops's brother's help. Being adorable is the bane of my existence. I'm wearing kid's clothes because I'm short, shit-for-brains. Look at how short I am compared to you low G xenos fucking giants!

  Anyway, my kids won even though they took about forty percent casualties, which I guess isn't bad considering their odds, but it occurs to me that I neglected to teach them about chain of command and how to command. Eh, they still won. Here's hoping we can get a league going so that Linus and Lucy can have a shelf full of trophies.

  We had a "feast" where I awarded the best "soldier" from both sides with a little bit of ribbon, and I told the kids about Valhalla. Well, the bits I remember that weren't too fucked up, and I made up some shit to fill the gaps.

  Today was good. Hell yeah.

  Dear Logary,

  SnEAky is okay.

  Today we did a war against a big team from the station.

  There was a zillion of them and only our team for us.

  We won anyway because they stood in the middle of the park and did not take cover.

  I did not get the ribbon for our side. I am happy that we won, but I want to win a ribbon too.