Fledgling

[Weapon]

Personal Log, Bellamy Crowe
location: Valravn Citadel, Inverness System
recording...
current date: 01.06.835
local time: 08:29
entry: 001

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Bellamy lay propped up in their bunk in their underwear, uniform and top strewn across the floor and a bottle of complimentary Rheinbier in hand from an encounter in California. Even as a commander, Valravn's quarters were cramped, and Bellamy typically shared a room with one Atticus Vindt, now stationed at Arranmoore. As nice as the hedonistic leisure privacy afforded was however, Bellamy had committed to this. Sighing, they looked into the recorder they'd gotten from Commander Freud.

“First entry then. Want to stop fucking around, stop running from myself. Have to start straightening up my act, haven't been good since Venus and I split. Too much liquor. Might've been projecting when I got pissy at Xi-Mao's 'anything that breathes' philosophy too."

Bellamy paused.

"Good talk with Freud the other night, after we captured the Concord. He's stuck in his own inner world pushing peace away, but I'm doing the opposite. Need a little introspection if I'm going to go anywhere here. Almost fucked up big time with Kelly in Leeds last week after the service. They say keeping a log helps you be mindful. Sounds like something CS would say, but fuck it, let's give it a shot.”

Grabbing a notepad, they began to jot down a to-do list. Not habit, but maybe it could and should be.

1. Reach out to Leviathan, see how the old man is doing.
   
2. Paracetamol, lots of it, for the place. Use Chloe.
   
3. Grow a spine and ask West about Aunt Lorna/who got me off of Guada.
   
4. Follow up with Kia? Seemed aloof.
   
5. Forgetting something. What is it?
   
6. Drink less. Yeah, I know I'm having a beer, so sue me.
   
7. Get more serious about flying. Ask that oldhead Levenko if he'll give me some private lessons?
   

“Sorry, had to do that so I didn't forget anything else. ...I'm apologizing to my own diary, fucking hell."

"Moving on. Yesterday felt like our first real win since I joined up, bringing in that Archer-class, but I have so many more questions than answers about this outfit. Lots of buried secrets. Who the fuck really was Locklear, and why does his name keep following me around? Can't get the full picture. Cobra, ex-Legion? Fit into the formation like a glove earlier when we sent that Rogue gunship into early retirement at the Shikoku gate. Talks like we aren't mortal enemies, believe it when I see it, though."

"And what the hell happened to Aunt Lorna? Wanted to make her proud. Barely thought about her since this time last year and I've been running from the questions because I don't want the answers. Going to start digging even if I don't like what I find. Don't think I'll grow any elsewise.”

"There, I did my responsible adult thing for the day, I can go back to lounging around half nude with my beer and... ugh."

The rustling of clothes and a couple of grunts and groans could be heard through the mic of the recording device buried face down in Bellamy's pillows as the young commander begrudgingly dressed themself.

1. Reach out to Leviathan, see how the old man is doing.
   
2. Paracetamol, lots of it, for the place. Use Chloe.
   

"Fine, Aunt Lorna. I'll do my housework."

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end of recording

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