Discovery Gaming Community

[font=Agency FB]Date: 02.09.818
Title: [color=#000000]"Diary"

Log Entry 001

I don't know why I do this, maybe I'm bored, maybe I deem it just the right thing to do right now, in any case I'm kinda feeling the urge to memorize a few thoughts, it might help me with the struggle I'm currently dealing with...

So anyway, I realised that my break from active duty didn't do me good, I hoped to be able to relax for a bit and distract myself in my enormously long-lasting free time, reading, writing, taking care of the garden, tidying up the never ending mess in the house, nope, it all went backwards. I ended up lying in my bed, staring at the wall above, thinking of nothing but him and how I miss him, how I miss his warm, calming body next to mine and- uh, I'm getting too sentimental here. Well, thus I resumed duty, slowly slipping back in the circle of daily life, shooting this scoundrel, chasing that enemy of the state. My patriotism is kind of blurry and dulled, as is my enthusiasm when I get up in the morning. What made my commitment to my work during the day last, was my anticipation for the evenings, the weekends with him, it was the counter-pole to what I did the rest of the day. And it all went flawlessly, I was happy, all the time... Anyway, this is sorta getting ridiculous.

I go visit him in the hospital every day. He's now given nutritional support thorugh those little plastic tubes, the specialists are in the dark, nobody has a clue what this mysterious 'sleeping' virus may be or what had caused it to suddenly appear.
Johnny is in an artificial coma, with stable vital signs but I did never had the chance to say goodbye, nor did he tell me about his disease but in the last minute and right now I'm unsure whether to love or to hate him...

[font=Agency FB]Date: 02.10.818
Title: [color=#000000]"Diary"

Log Entry 002

My day was terrible, getting up, flying to the Norfolk for briefing, coffee, chat with fellow pilots, standard patrols on the border, enforcing law, repelling corsairs, ah damn, it is actually so depressing. I'm suprised I never realized that, or wasn't it as irksome before? Maybe yes, there was always this counterpart, the other weight who'd balance the entire thing, yeah, that's what I lack, balance. Without that balance I gradually tilt over to one side, until I crash... Alas...

I still visit him everday, I speak to him, tell him about my adventures, how the house is surprisingly well tidied up, how the flowers in the garden prosper, and their amazing colours in the sunlight.. He seems all happy and sane, no wounds, no cramped face, just in deep, seemingly endless sleep. Some people say that it helps when you talk to people who are comatose. 'You should encourage them, keep them entertained, make them listen to you' is what I hear all day, I never really was into those spiritual thingies... However, albeit it may not help him, it helps me, kind of. I hardly ever have the opportunity to talk to anyone else during the day, especially not in that particular intimate way, and that's what I seem to need, it's all to push aside this whole seriousness I need to maintain in my job. And this portion of humour and intimacy I can no longer distribute, or feel, or receive, whatever, or only in a limited manner. Eating lunch with my buddies, telling lilttle jokes and then laughing with about it, it's never the same, there's much more distance. I never dare to talk to anyone else about my problems.. yeah, you'd say that's a major fault, however I can't, and don't want to, and I don't believe anyone would understand my situation or even care... who knows. I hate being dependant of someone or something, anyway, makes me feel constricted.. even trapped. And now I realize I've slipped in too many dependancies in the last months and years. I've been extremely happy since I was together with John and that fact now results in an extremely deep sorrow... kinda funny, the more extreme on one side, as extreme on the other one.. and the likelihood of suddenly overturning to such.. Alas, this already sounds too much of self-pity to me, I guess I need to stop again already.

[font=Agency FB]Date: 02.13.818
Title: [color=#000000]"Diary"

Log Entry 003

So, you have probably noticed that I left out the past two days. There are reasons for such, firstly, I was trying to live my life again, despite my generally miserable mood, secondly, as a consequence of point one I really lacked occasions to spend hours and hours cogitating and contemplating over my current crisis and struggle, and thirdly, eh, well that's the major argument, I simply couldn't force myself to write down a few pointless lines which are supposed to be a diary and which I should, according to specialists, benefit from.

Well, what can I say, today I had a bunch of traders who were ignorantly violating several rules of traffic action within Bretonia space, followed by outrageously rude manners and a tendency of being utterly slow on the uptake. I always imagine that all the dumbest, most ignorant, most foul-smelling and bad-looking middle-aged people end up on smelly freighters with bad hygiene, grubby beds and an endless list of outstanding repairs. Yeah, that's the less delightful part of my daily work, the one that requires immense amounts of sympathy and patience. Dealing with half-witted chumps really gets on my nerves with the time. Surprisingly enough, I never seem to lose control or my smile during the shifts, and especially during encounters like described above. I slip into a second personality, one who is not allowed to show feelings at all, always focused on work, quick and concise, restrained and keen... And in the evening I turn into that agitated, bugged out monster, yeah really, I'm a monster when being alone at home. I used to be able to vent my spleen and wrath on Johnny, or no, I did not vent it on him, I rather converted that cumulated 'negative' energy into something blitheful and pleasening. The absence of such hit me mercilessly and now I need to deal with that everyday without the possibility of sharing and converting it.

The doctors say he's all right, his neural functions and his metabolism or whatever are running on low capacity but are stable. He breathes slowly and quietly, this is what makes me, amongst other things, try everyday to grasp any remaining 'pieces' of that amazing, undescribable feeling that flowed through my body and my mind when he was nearby and which would lighten everything, which would let me brush aside all my worries and sorrows... but I fail, and the longer I try to talk to him, the longer the whole fuss seems futile to me.. Though I won't release him, not now, not yet, I simply can't.

[font=Agency FB]Date: 02.15.818
Title: [color=#000000]"Diary"

Log Entry 004

Ah damn, performed one hell of a nerve-racking system sweep today. 'We've been receiving worrisome sensor intel from various satellites spread all over the system lately, check that out, Lieutenant.' Gosh, this 'patrol' mutated into a crisscross chivvy all over Leeds. Oh yes, I now know Leeds sytem like the back of my hand and have had several encounters with miscallenous inhabitants of this system.. or should I rather say intruders? From Mollys, Gaians, those ugly Kusari Exiles which are in fact allies and therefore to be treated as such, yet I somehow don't manage to adjust myself to their frequency.. aaand of course those greedy, Gallic royalists with their atrociously sounding language, there was everything. A cat and mouse game all day long, occasionally throwing a bunch of indignities at each other and whatnot. Short, it's been tiresome and tedious. Enriching you, my dear diary, seemed to be the best option for a lying-in-the-bed-for-hours-but-somehow-don't-manage-to-sleep activity.

Well, what could possibly interest you, oh yeah, last week I was in Newcastle again, in the northern part to be precise, and this immediately reminded me at my first assignment in the system back in uhm.. dunno anymore. So I was escorting the HMS-Dagobaz, you know that captured Kusari destroyer piloted by the Duke of Norfolk himself (!) in a supposedly secret mission to Battleship Harlow which was stationed near those giant alien space relicts. Well we approached the complex and I was all baffled and surprised by the sheer size of this city-like construction. What fascinated me most, though, was the flickering, colourful shield surrounding the biggest uhm.. rock in the center. So yeah I was flying my circles and doing my spectral scans when suddenly a message on an encrypted frequency inbound on my computer, from Captain John Clay, leading a fighter squad in Leeds at that time. Yeah, I was like uhm what's that when I heard his calming, yet firm voice through this channel. 'What a beautiful and romantic place, isn't it?' As you may be able to imagine I did not believe my ears at first, hey it was a Captain of the Armed Forces, on duty, a supervisor, talking to a freshly graduated, admittedly extremely naive Ensign. I'm really not that kind of girl who lets random guys hit on me but that moment was uh, ye, kind of really special. It was the moment when his willowy, thrilling aura encircled me forever. I realize this now, its importance to me I mean, his importance to me, now as it keeps inexorably fading away from me...

[font=Agency FB]Date: 02.29.818
Title: [color=#000000]"Diary"

Log Entry 005

Oh well, I guess updating my diary is going to be a rather casual activity than a daily one. Wait wait, I have a very legit reason for neglecting you, my dear diary, over the past days. I really scarcely had time for things other than completing my shifts, do the corresponding paperwork, come home totally mashed in the evenings, make me a coffee and then plump in my bed to sleep for the few hours that remain before I gotta start over with the whole circle again. But you know, today I found it worthwhile to spare an hour for you. Just look at the date, a rarity you will only be able to sight every fourth year. Not like I seek you to be read by anyone else than me, maybe after my funeral, so that all people whom I was somewhat important to can see how much of a different person I actually am than I always pretended to be, haha. At least they will see that I was not such of a lazy person that I'd miss the chance to compose an entry on such a special date.

Anyway, I somehow managed to get John outta my head in the past days, mainly due to tedious work serving as distraction, I suppose. Now I fear I'm having a relapse, although his birthday is only in a bit less than a month I can't seem to push that day out of my mind. At his last birthday I hadn't even known him, I hadn't even entered the Armed Forces, I was still a foolish cadet without the slightest clue of what immense pleasure but also what immense mourn would hit upon me in the following months. I had often dreamed of doing something real special with him on that day, like spending a night together in some unknown nebula aboard a Dragoon, or a snow hike on Harris.. dang it's bad for your mood having such great expectations and plans when in the end your entire dream gets disrupted.. disappointment much, it's heartbreaking. Oh god, I can't believe I'm getting that sentimental again, this must stop now.

So, let's switch topic. Oh yes, there was a rather gripping fight in Leeds the other day, those silly Royalists once again tried to overthrow Leeds' defense perimeter.. well they failed. But best is, some random girl with a squeaking voice stumbled in this tight brawl in Leeds orbit and challenged me (!) for a duel. So my temper told me: "Humiliate and annihilate that reckless bitch" and my intellect told me: "Keep on your target, you have orders". Well, while I kept shooting at that one Garlic fighter my temper and my intellect must have come to some sort of mutual agreement, because shortly after, the new official target was exactly that girl flying a Roc bomber. Dueling her with my buddies supporting me was most pleasurable. The satisfaction that flows through your body when you tear someone's hull apart with a deft Mini Razor shot is indescribable.

I've never found the reason why she shot at me.

[font=Agency FB]Date: 03.24.818
Title: [color=#000000]"Diary"

Log Entry 006

That day is a model example of a plain dull, ordinary day. Well of course, every day is different to the other, different people you talk to, varying experiences, other insights and perceptions, yeah, but when you have the same strict schedule every day for weeks in a row, it kinda feels like it has not really enriched your life. It just seems like it's spent, the days go by. And in such periods you hope for some action, yeah. Of course there was no action today. Exiles, Police and whatnot literally stole it. Though I admit that patrol today was smooth. I have been a Lieutenant for a fairly long time now, a stint during which many fellow officers of the same year have climbed the ladder remarkably higher than I did. Sometimes I feel left behind, and the others disappear from out of my range. But when I ponder on it, I realize that it doesn't really irk me, ranks never had meant much to me, nor the career. Yet I felt quite experienced and quasi 'mature' today. I led a squad consisting of three ensigns and me for a complete Bretonian space security sweep. One of them just entered active duty. I dun know but I have the impression that they're way smoother and less 'cramped' than I used to be for weeks after I had entered the Armed Forces. Even though they were certainly taught seriousness and restraint, they can make jokes even in the dodgiest situations, I couldn't act as cool-headed back then... sigh. Well, good for me, us all, actually. Beats the cheerlessness outta the air, or space, whatever. So overall I'd say it was a pretty cool day. Even though, talking on the rough course of action, not differing from the previous ones. Well, besides that I decided to blow dust off you and dedicate you another entry, my dearest diary. How meaningless it may ever appear to the readers..

Oh and Durham. Durham border station. Damn I got my tastiest coffee I ever had in that bar. A secret hint for all coffee-lovers, -addicts, -fanciers and suchlike.

[font=Agency FB]Date: 04.10.818
Title: [color=#000000]"Diary"

Log Entry 007

There's a new fad which has spread all over Sirius with at least double lightspeed, a ridiculous obsession, an abnormal monomania. Reasons for such are a miracle to me, do the governments have too much money? Are people bored? Are they paranoid or do they fear the apocalypse that every company and even every single little bunch of muggers build their own, customized base now? Oh yeah, envy and anger is followed by initial joy and enthusiasm, I can see where this'll lead to.
Yesterday I had the pleasure to attend to such a construction, or rather devolpement, frankly. Bowex bees hummed about and strenuously assembled their new outpost in New London, and of course did the admirals declare it as top-priority to ensure the flawless supply of this base using battleships, destroyers, Police gunboats and fighters plugging away at coumbing through even the most desolate dead-end spots in Cambridge and New London in order to prevent the Bowex tranports from being recklessly interrupted by possible scoundrels prowling about her majesty's sovereign and oh-so-royal space. Ack, in that moment it all appeared completely ridiculous to me, well, at least there was one positive aspect. This huge deployment of half of the armed forces predictably attracted the sairs' and Mollys' attention which eventually ensued in a mildly heated brawl within the exploited Cornwall asteorid field. Garibaldi's Challenger burst into pieces near the end of the fight, at least I then didn't have to listen to her bossy voice anymore... Davis' weird gibberish remained though, sadly I didn't manage to make his comm frequency interfere with others so his nerve-racking babbling would quit. Gosh darnit I should refrain from venting my resentment in this book. Sorry my dear diary, I didn't mean to fill ya with so much negative content. I will halt my rant now for our both's health.

[font=Agency FB]Date: 05.19.818
Title: [color=#000000]"Diary"

Log Entry 008

Sigh. I'm struggling with the idea to abandon Johnny completely. The doctors are in the dark about his current and possible future state of health. Neither do they know what may have caused this mysterious virus, nor what it actually does to his body. He could die or wake up any moment. They say that his bones slowly but gradually decay and that it can't be cured unless he uses them. I dunno, it's kinda relieving to have him either alive and awake any time sooner or later or eventually completely dead. This state of quasi-dead-but-still-alive makes me mad. I can't let him go and yet don't have him with me. It devours your sanity, really. I somehow managed to retain this sanity so far and I will maintain this status until there's no hope left for him. I then will start my life anew, leaving old bonds behind...

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