Well, here I am. Finally aboard the good ship Collateral Damage! It’s hard to imagine that just a few short months ago I was on Marshall’s World studying the dull politics of trade policy and procedure. Goodness, but things are so much different here on a ship. My quarters are unbearably cramped—I can hardly fit my cello in with the rest of my belongings. The captain insisted I travel light. What he ought to have said was “travel with less than the bare essentials.” Ha! He made me leave half my luggage in the loading bay at the time of departure. Of course, I wasn’t really in a position to negotiate with father looming over me, so a stiff upper lip and forgoing most of my smart, formal attire it was. A shame, really. Most of the crew don’t seem to know a pinstripe from a pinafore.
Aside from their utter lack of panache, I think I’m going to fit in well with the crew. My neighbor down the hall, a certain Miss Victrix, might be an attractive sort if she weren’t so severe. Apparently she needs her beauty rest or she becomes quite cranky. Consequently, I’ve been instructed to relocate my cello recitals to elsewhere in the ship (the medic, Lilyth, is a dear and obliged me. The acoustics aren’t too intolerable where she’s located). No matter, I’m sure Victrix will come around. Just a bit rough around the edges is all. The captain seems to have a good relationship with her. Can’t help but wonder if that’s strictly professional or not—perhaps I’ll ask Medoc. I’m sure he’s a pleasant sort under that formal exterior, though he lacks a certain understanding of his place within the hierarchy. Mustn’t be too hard on him though, we’re all rather new to all this. Even the captain!
Father assured me that working with Draque will provide me with valuable work experience. I’ve some reservations about working with such a new captain, but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. Ah! Speaking of which, I ought to get back to whatever it was that Kavik assigned me. Something about investment options or some such?
Until next time, diary.