Dear Diary,

  Making a schedule was harder than I thought. For instance, how long is an hour? Well, sixty minutes. Cool, how long is that? In the end I set a timer for a minute, and Sneaky said that he thinks his minute and ours are close. The useful thing is that his year works out to be close to ours too, just five days short. Which means that after over three hundred years of waiting his guesses he'd be off by a year. We just decided to ignore the differences in calendars and set up a sort of daily routine for when we're sailing. I didn't really do anything special, since he says he normally sleeps six hours, that leaves him eighteen hours to work with. Now, the four hour blocks that match up with Daddy's work day were easy. Study with Yoiv in the morning, and go on rounds with me and Daddy or exercise with the other kids in the afternoon. He said he'd LOVE to play games with us. And that he could beat the older kids in his higher gravity. We'll see about that.

  Anyway, when I told him that Yoiv was on a break from learning how to read and write, he was kinda surprised that it was 'cause Mom was waiting for Yoiv to get bored of the new pet and focus on studying again. He said sorry for not being boring enough. His face was too blank for it to NOT have been a joke. Not giving it away with his face was probably part of the joke. Yoiv giggled. Anyway, that meant he had ten hours left over, he said to take six hours off for breakfast and dinner time, but that only left him another four hours. I was confused until he asked, through Yoiv, if I had noticed how long it takes to get ready in the morning, including braiding his, Yoiv's and my hair. Then he said to think about how much time the family just spends quietly relaxing in our quarters. I never realized how full every day was. It doesn't feel like you do much day to day, but when you put it all down on a chart, you look real busy. Anyway, he wants to have an hour of exercise, but he tried to explain that it's like I dunno, super exercise? Like for his old job exercise? He seemed frustrated that we couldn't find the word, but he told me not to worry.

  I didn't think I did anything special, but since Sneaky can't read yet, I did some simple illustrations of him doing the activities, but he thought it was really cool. He even said that seeing I was a good artist who got lots of practice was a good sign he was in a good house on his first day. Which led to talking about his first day. He smiled and shook with silent laughter as he signed that he was surprised when he figured out he was a pet. I told him that he terrified us, and we thought we'd find him curled up somewhere dead. Well, maybe I shouldn't have told him because he got all sad and told me he was sorry. He tried to explain that he had to learn what kind of place he was in, if it was good or bad. Yoiv told him that's why Daddy put the lock on his door, because he was scared he'd get hurt while we weren't looking. That cheered him up, and he just signed, "I showed him."

  "That's when Trantran named you Sneaky," Yoiv helpfully told him.

  "I was meaning to ask, what is word?"

  "Good at being out of sight and quiet."

  I was worried he wouldn't be able to breath when he started laughing.

  That basically took up all of our time until Daddy came home, and he said we should watch a movie. Thankfully Mom picked out something before he got to the menus.

  Log: 6000000.9.09, Personal, Captain Yormdrill

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  It's Sneaky's first day aboard as an official guest, and very properly he spent it as he wished. Which seemed to mainly be playing with Yoivdrill and helping Trandi with making a schedule chart for him. It was rather clever, using dots to denote hours out of twenty four to denote the time, and little illustrations of Sneaky engaging in various activities. Looks like they're alternating going to the gym with the other children with doing the maintenance rounds with me. Now that we know Sneaky is a person, it's not really an opportunity for one-on-one father-daughter chats though. I shall have to establish something else. Maybe take her up to the galley to talk over some tea? She's old enough for a mild brew, but Trevdi might be reluctant to allow her to indulge in caffeine no matter how mildly.

  I took the opportunity to read during my warm body shift, and looking back Sneaky is much less confusing. He's probably trained to escape and fight in captivity, and only the poachers drugs and electric prods kept him at bay. Considering the small fraction of his skill he's shown, because I doubt he was ever fully committed to acting in a combat paradigm, I think he and his people would be terrifying enemies to provoke. Anyway, most of what I read has to do with boarding actions, either repelling or committing, and the effects it can have on a man, but he said his job was on planets. Maybe his people's sailors and planeters kept up their bonds of brotherhood? It would certainly be interesting to learn about. Regardless, I think much of the advice about not prying for information about how he feels, being present when he is in distress, and being attentive if he does wish to share will still apply. If Trandi does not either intuit these strategies, or think to research them, I will send her some of these resources.

  I though more about how Sneaky wants to contribute to the ship as I went on my maintenance rounds, and I concluded that it's not dishonorable to allow it. Wouldn't I be offering him insult to refuse his attempt to fit in? Is this not him accepting us, and trying to make a place amongst us? How then could I refuse with honor? The guestrite must still be observed, and I think he will be content to study for fourteen days or so.

  When I got home, I was in the mood to watch Call to the Blade, but Trevdi beat me to the menus and we watched Upon the Waves. It's not bad, but it gets a little saccharine at points.

  Journal Entry: 15. Date: 1/2/7. Name: Greg George

  So Linus picks up on shooting from cover rather quickly. Good. We will soon own this deck, you and I. We can even recruit the other toddlers to our cause. Our cause of shooting everyone with foam darts and laughing when they can't catch us. I am a mature and responsible adult.

  Lucy helped me block out my time by making a chart. She did these great little drawings of me doing the various things at times represented with dots since I can't read Bleivusese. Her drawings were fucking badass. She got just a shade lilac when I told her how great they look, so she's a little self-conscious about her art. Well her and every last artist ever. Pretty sure the first caveman to smear paint on a wall said, "Grog suck at this, Grog need practice paint smear better." But more importantly, this chart has drawings of me being with my friends. Hell yeah.

  We got a little sidetracked, and I guess I must have looked like shit warmed over in hell when they picked me up, because when I slipped around to scout the area, they were afraid that I had crawled off someplace to die. Shit, that's rough. I'm sorry, new friends, I wasn't trying to hurt anybody. I explained, as well as I could, that I needed to determine whether I was still in hostile territory. I think they got it. Kind of. Shit's hard. That's when Lucy explained my nickname. Sneaky. They fucking named me Sneaky. I laughed so hard I think my sides are still on the roof.

  Pops came home and declared movie night, but instead of a badass naval battle and four armed sword fighting, it was this sappy-ass romance movie full of will they won't they shit. JUST FUCKING KISS HER ALREADY YOU IDIOT.

  I almost feel like I'm on overwatch, but with no crosshairs. Don't get me wrong, I'm on lookout for threats against my friends, but shit's weird. Is this what home feels like for someone like me?