Into that Vast Expanse

Hero's Diary Entry 8

In Which A Decision Is Made

Dear Diary,
I can’t begin to describe what we encountered on this accursed vessel. Suffice it to say that, as I stared down the sight of my pistol, I had but one thought, “Not like this.” I refuse to die out here in space. I refuse to die in service to another. If that means a defensive training regimen, then so be it. But I’ll be damned, damned if I’m about to die as some commoner. After everything had settled down a bit, Mr. Triox invited me to tea and was good enough to inquire as to how I’ve fared through the whole ordeal. How someone who appears so very inhuman seems to have a better grasp on humanity than much of the senior staff is beyond me.

And Draque? What of his leadership? At the first sign of trouble—real trouble, mind you—the man went simply mad. We watched in horror as he turned from that demon and set his weapon against Miss Victrix. Thank goodness the dear is fine. I met her down in the med bay after Miss Renatus had tended to her wounds (a bit strange, that one, but one certainly can’t fault her medical expertise). She tried to put on a brave face and tell me it was nothing, but one does not simply have their confidant and partner turn on them with murder in their eyes and not have it affect them. I encouraged her to speak with him once she was ready. As to the captain…I’m unsure whether to pity him or to be furious. My inclination is the former, for as much as he purports to be a shining beacon of strength to his crew, the entire fa├žade was dashed in only a moment. I’ve seen entire careers fall to pieces that way.

Furthermore, It seems repairs of all sorts will be necessary. I’ve tended to the personal, now it’s a matter of assessing physical losses. For now, at least, it seems inventory management and replacement will occupy much of my time. Dataslate in hand, I sought out Burne and Goat, both of whom proved quite useful in damage estimates and cost. With all this in mind, I still hesitate to inform Draque of the seriousness of the situation. Perhaps in a few days, when he’s had a bit more time to process. Besides, I’ll need to inform him of Medoc’s latest report. Goodness knows an attempted mutiny on the Gilded Hook will do nothing improve his foul mood.

It’s a shame, Diary, that not so long ago our largest concern was converting natives and designing monuments. I think I much preferred that to the current state of affairs.

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