You must forgive me. I feel as though I’ve spent much of the past week in a bit of a fog, though after the events on Shin one can hardly blame me. To make matters worse, it seems my usual distractions have quite failed to ease the general unpleasantness I’ve experienced since we left that foul moon. And, to be perfectly honest, I doubt anything on Draque’s scow of disappointment will ever really suffice. I suppose there really are some things that one can’t solve with liberal application of wine or women. What an unenviable lesson to learn!
Miss Victrix has been quite sweet about the whole ordeal. Not really my type, mind you (and I imagine the captain would airlock me in a moment if he suspected anything), but in her own way she’s been looking after me. I knew there was more to the first officer than that militant exterior let on. We’ve taken to playing strategy games in the officer’s lounge. She has tried, in her own charming, gruff way, to ensure that I’m adjusting to life on the ship. I was as diplomatic as I could be while giving her what she wanted—a mostly candid answer. Her world view is admirably simple. To lead her on a chase through the politics of conversation seemed unkind.
And, of course, no entry would be complete without mention of Draque’s latest foray into the many new and exciting ways to put yours truly in harm’s way. Another away mission, damn him. I’ve all but resigned myself to the fact that somewhere out in this lost and forgotten expanse of the universe, I am going to die an ignominious death at the hands of some foul creature. Hang it all, I am far too handsome and clever to die in such a fashion! I had always imagined more of a dramatic duel against multiple assassins, or perhaps a poisoning at the hands of a rival. Not horrific, mutated rat-creatures scrabbling at my beautiful corpse.
With any luck, Diary, the next time I write I’ll have convinced the Captain I’m far too valuable to send on these dangerous excursions.