Obviously, I've pissed someone off. Can't see another reason for it.
I got my command and then I got my orders. Neptune. There's no more
than twelve thousand people in the entire system, most of them on Triton or in
Neptune's skies, working the gas platforms.
I can't get a decent drink of coffee out here. Sooner or later the stash I brought from Ceres will be gone and I'll be stuck with the reprocessed piss they're drinking. And liberty in New Lassell isn't exactly a bowl of excitement; even after six month's passage, within two days, half the crew was back on board with wires in their heads. I guess VR is more interesting than prowling the miner bars and entertainments of that nest of ice tunnels.
Our only action is going to be patrolling the skies of Neptune, looking for some desperate pirate or smuggler. But who would bother? The Marvins aren't even interested in raiding the place; we'd see them coming for months, even if they came.
It must have been Admiral Kirkova. She must have been pissed when I tore apart her picket fleet in that sim last year. That's it -- she's off my Christmas list.
-- personal log, Commander Josev Kahn, ABG Vulepecula, 4 July 2519
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