While digging through my belongings after returning from the party, I found the silliest damn toy I have ever owned. I came across it when doing a research project on toys during my second semester of 20th century studies in the Academy. It's called an Astrojax, and it is the love child of juggling and yo-yos. While both concepts had been around for a long long time before the invention of this toy, no one had thought to try to combine the two together.

When I was telling Corey about the odd thing a physicist had invented, he insisted we had to replicate one. It took a bit of fussing to get a pattern for the replicator, and ultimately we had to reinvent the thing based upon what I'd been able to find out about it while writing my paper, but I think we were ultimately successful. Corey bored of it quickly, so it was a good thing we only actually bothered to replicate one, but I still find myself picking it up to play with years later. It also helps that Delilah is absolutely fascinated with the things, and will happily sit and watch me play with them for hours. Certainly comes in handy when I need to distract her from something else.

I was very underwhelmed by how the party went, but we seem to have picked up a couple more crew members at random and they made it to the party for me to meet them. One's human, seems like she'll be fun to get into trouble with. I didn't catch her last name, certainly sounded Russian, but her first name is Svetlana. A touch of a mouthful, I'll have to figure out something shorter to call her. The other's an Andorian, named Imaru, but she's weird for an Andorian. Not like standard I'm in Starfleet Andorian weird, but something else. She bristles at the presence of other Andorians, and some of her remarks implied that she considered herself different from the others. It doesn't seem like it'll be anything to bother me, and it will be nice to have someone else to share the feeling of personal vendetta against the Blue Bastard with.

One other thing about her that's worth noting... She had been serving aboard the Terra Nova the same time as I was, but I somehow hadn't encountered her. I guess she usually keeps to herself down in Engineering or something like that. At any rate, that part is less weird that it should probably seem. The weird thing is, I had somehow not heard of what had happened to the Terra Nova not long after I'd be transferred to that shit hole, Milliways. Apparently there was some big to-do, whole ship got fucked up, official report claimed subspace anomaly destroyed her, and we lost a lot of good people. I looked up the official reports I had security clearance for, thankfully no one had bothered to take away my clearance levels left from Delta Force, as there was a little more information in the reports one level up. Not enough to actually explain what happened, but just enough to support the cryptic remarks Imaru made when she was bringing me up to date at the party.

The worst part about it was I knew a good chunk of the crew lost, partied hardy with more than a few, and they'd been dead and gone for over a year before I even heard about it. I knew Milliways was basically a black hole in the fleet, but I thought Mouse had kept me up to date on most of the big events that happened in the fleet during my sentence there.

I think the full impact of what I had missed hearing about, the lack of a chance to timely mourn the loss of so many good people, was what left me melancholy enough to dig out that silly Astrojax toy. It's a good way to distract oneself enough to left stuff sort itself out in the back of one's head without having to consciously think about it.

Leaving the mess, I kept hearing my name float up in the conversation. I made a point to ignore it. Reaching the corridor, I let out a sigh of relief as I was now out of ear shot of the damned gossip brigade. The Shingen easily had the most active and rabid gossip network I'd ever encountered on a fleet ship, which is saying a lot given the level of crap I'd heard about on Milliways sometimes.

I swung past my quarters, and checked my messages. There was something from Mouse with a note about how I should have put in a change of address with the post office, and he doesn't appreciate having to forward my mail for me. Also, when would I have some leave to come back and visit. I tossed back a quick reply that I had no intention of stepping foot on Milliways again if I could avoid it, but if he wanted to coordinate leave somewhere like six months down the road, I'd be happy to meet him somewhere. Also, I asked if he was reading my mail before forwarding it, and if so, was this anything interesting?

As tempted as I was to open the message Mouse had forwarded to me, I knew that I couldn't waste too much time before showing up down at the flight deck. Johnson hadn't had much left on his plate when I made my hasty retreat, and Cryn had stopped eating after I'd poked fun as his replicated gagh. He did claim to appreciate the real thing, so I wonder if he'd even been to Valanna's in San Fran. So I reluctantly made my way down to the flight deck.

"During her debriefing, she mentioned a program Spiegel put together for her to monitor comm channels. I'd like to get a look at it," Cryn said to Johnson. I entered the flight deck just as he was saying this, his back to me, and frowned slightly. Johnson was first to acknowledge my presence with a nod in my direction. I did the same so as to not break into their conversation, but apparently they were going to draw me into it anyways.

"Voralis was just telling me about a comm program that Lucas made for you," Johnson directed at me. I'd gotten so used to hearing everyone just call the dork Spiegel that it still throws me off to hear anyone use his given name. My face must have reflected this as the look that Johnson directed my way expressed confusion.

"He prefers to be addressed as Spiegel," I corrected, making an effort to be polite about it. This only seemed to confuse the Admiral more, as his mouth twisted into a slight frown.

"Mr. Spiegel didn't seem like the formal sort," he commented back at me, and I shook my head slightly.

"Just call him Spiegel, no mister attached." I explained, following Johnson and Cryn as they headed towards the Obama. As we reached it, Johnson stepped aside with a gesture to indicate he wanted me to go first. I awkwardly smiled as I moved past him, and darted inside without waiting for the door to finish opening. Demonstrating more patience than I was typically capable of, both men waited for the door to open all the way before they followed me in, giving me a chance to start settling in before they were there to watch and evaluate. I sat at the right front console, and pulled up the configuration I'd saved during the last trip in the Obama.

"How does the customization interface work?" Johnson asked as he settled into the chair to my left. I'd just started the preflight check, so I only spared a moment to reach over and trigger the customization mode on his console. Cryn was standing just behind me and to my left, so that he could easily look over both mine and the Admiral's shoulder, and without looking back, I could tell he was doing just that.

"For someone who complains about fleet consoles and training being so human specific, your console isn't that far off from fleet standards," Cryn observed after a couple moments observation, to which I shrugged.

"First ten years of my life were on Luna, I can't help it if I picked up some human habits," I dismissed. While I was saying this, Cryn placed a hand on the back of my chair and leaned forward to take a closer look at my console. Glancing back at him, I saw his eyes were directed to the lower left corner where I had a couple of programs displaying readings for me.

"Is that Spiegel's program?" he asked pointing it out among the group he'd been looking at, and Johnson finally turned his attention away from trying out the console customization. As I nodded, I elected to send the program to the main display to avoid having the two men move too far into my personal space. "You mentioned it would crash if someone it didn't recognize were too close, but it's running fine with us here." Cryn observed, and I glanced over my shoulder to find his eyebrow raised.

"When I opened it, it identified both of you from internal sensors, and asked if you were authorized. It gave me your name, rank and serial number," I explained, and indicated I was talking about Johnson, then turned my gaze to Cryn. "But it couldn't give me anything more than your picture and security clearances. It did list off some interesting security groups I haven't seen since my time with Delta Force and Terra Nova." Cryn coughed, then frowned, but Johnson had an amused look across his face. "I knew you were a spook," I couldn't resist ribbing him, and he retreated to the chair on the other side of Johnson.

"What would it take for me to get a copy of the program?" Cryn finally asked. I let a sly smile play across my lips and let him sit in silence a moment before answering.

"Spiegel really should give me a commission, I've spread more of his creations than he has," I quipped, not actually answering the question posed to me.

"Except for his book," Cryn corrected, and his tone of voice told me he was trying to regain an advantage in the conversation.

"I heard they're giving copies of the book to undercover agents for Starfleet Intelligence," Johnson commented.

"That'll really stroke the dork's ego." I initiated the takeoff sequence as I said this. "It tickled him pink enough when the Bastard started carrying around a copy of it with him."

"Bastard?" Johnson asked with a furrowed brow. Cryn chuckled a little.

"That's what she calls Shan," Cryn explained, and Johnson frowned.

"Therav's a good officer," he objected.

"He shot me in the back in a bar on Milliway's, sir." My statement was brisk and not without a tinge of anger.

"I'm sure he had a good reason."

"Apparently he was trying to keep me from getting into more trouble than I'd already found myself in," I all but growled. The Obama cleared the docking bay doors as I said this, and I pulled her sharply up, keeping the roof of the craft about a meter away from the outer hull of the Shingen. Johnson held onto the edge of his console, and Cryn steadied himself by holding the arm of his chair. "I don't care what his reason, there is never a justifiable excuse to shoot someone in the back. Ever."

"You turned the inertial dampeners down, didn't you?" Johnson asked as I banked the craft right and headed out to the open space just past the ship.

"Airsick bag's available from the replicator, pattern Diziara Greenhorn Four," I explained as I laid in a course. Cryn chuckled as Johnson looked back at the replicator a moment, but eventually elected to stay seated. I hardly paid him any mind, as I was laying in a course so I could focus on the holographic extension to the console.

"So, is it the fourth version of an airsick bag you've created?" Johnson asked, commenting on the pattern number. My laugh surprised him, and I took a moment before I responded, so I could display the stock holographic interface options on the main screen as I scrolled through the list.

"Do you know how to count on your hand in binary, sir?" I finally asked him as I paused on one that was labeled Stearman PT-17. Cryn smiled slyly as Johnson went through the motions to count out to four, ending up with only his middle finger extended.

"How subtle," was all Johnson had to say on that. I locked in the Stearman configuration, grinning widely as the console in front of me morphed into one that resembled the instrument panel in a PT-17 Stearman biplane. Analog gauges, switches and the control stick all laid out like I remembered it, and my hands wandered a moment without actually activating anything.

"Corey actually sent me the pattern when I'd complained about the greenhorns making messes in the shuttles I'd fly for away missions," I explained as I started actively adjusting the panel. Reassigning this gauge, adding that display, relocating the odd switch, there were so many things wrong about the preconfigured layout. Whoever had designed the adaption of the antique craft's panel to Starfleet technological needs clearly hadn't flown the biplane in question.

"Corey Waterhouse?"

"Yes sir."

"Will you stop calling me sir?"

"Yes, Sir." I felt like the Cheshire cat as my grin managed to double in size as I ribbed Johnson. Cryn chuckled softly, and Johnson looked from me to Cryn and back again a couple times.

"Waterhouse should have been an Engineer," he finally said, probably realizing that I was just needling him at this point. I couldn't help snorting in amusement.

"Yeah, that's pretty obvious to the most casual observer. It's Jack's fault he's a pilot instead."

"Figgins? How do you figure?"

"Went through the Academy with the pair of 'em." Finally satisfied with the configuration I'd settled on, I saved it and took the Obama out of auto pilot. "Corey freely admitted that he went through flight training to keep an eye on Jack and help him out, and he didn't have the time to spare to double major. I know he could have done it, if he wanted, but Jack and I would have seen almost nothing of him outside of class. It would have made my downtime horribly boring."

"Wasn't Jack in Red Squad? Why would he need looking after?"

"Corey and I shoe horned every last bit of education into him that he needed to maintain the grades for Red Squad," I explained, and tested the Obama's response to the stick by throwing her into a barrel roll. Johnson opened his mouth to object to this statement, so I continued talking. "Corey didn't care for the elitist attitude of the group, and I was too much of a trouble maker for them to let me in. Jack about had 'em sold to accept me, but then Admiral Paris went and spoiled it by making me punch him."

"Interesting take on that event, Owen tells it differently," Cryn commented with a chuckle. Before I could retort, Johnson took control of the conversation again.

"Jack's been a department head on the Monitor for a while now, he's shown no indication of needing as much help as you're implying. And Corey only recently transferred in, so he wouldn't have been able to prop Jack up into the position."

"Once you get the information into him, Jack holds onto it especially well. He had to eventually figure out what it was that Corey and I did to get him to retain information, and figure out how to do it himself. He's certainly not stupid," I explained, and started running through some of my favorite maneuvers. I tried to bite back my smile as I noticed Johnson glancing back towards the replicator.

"So, if you're not saying he's stupid, what are you saying is wrong with Jack?" Johnson finally asked. I pulled the Obama up short, and turned her back towards the Shingen.

"Nothing is wrong with him. He's just got a learning disability, and doesn't respond to the medications most people take to handle it," I explained with an annoyed sigh. Conversation came to a dead halt with this statement, and I fussed with the holographic controls a little more. "There's a little bit of a lag, but it probably wouldn't take much effort to iron it out," I finally declared. "So, are we going to get to keep the Obama for a little bit, or are we going to have to send her on to someone else soon?"

"I had to pull quiet a few strings to get you the first crack at her, but I'll do what I can to keep her here for a while. They're working to build a second one, so depending on how quickly that goes, it might take some of the pressure off to hand this one over," Johnson told me.

"They're going to upgrade the phase inducers on the second one, to the specs that Spiegel and Noelle recommended in their reports, right?" I asked, a slight frown on my face.

"As far as I know," Johnson answered. "Though knowing engineers, it's entirely possible they'll insist on not doing it and just posting a warning against playing near tachyon eddies."

"I don't know an engineer worth the air they breath that would dare do such a thing," I shot, possibly a little defensively. This brought the conversation to a halt, and I sat back in my chair, letting the Obama pilot herself from the course I'd laid in.

Eventually Cryn and Johnson started interrogating me on the ship's customizable consoles as if I was the one who wrote up the specs or built the damn thing. Even though I managed to satisfy their questions, I was wishing I'd insisted on bringing Spiegel along to field these questions. I saw some of the notations he'd made on the copy of the specs he'd been reading over in the mess earlier. At least my experience with holoprogramming helped me on fielding the questions about the holographic interface.

When they finally decided they'd had enough, and I was clearly growing weary from having been cooped up in the ship with them for so long without even my normal music to help balance things out, I laid in a course back to the Shingen. That's when they really blind sided me.

"How long has it been since you last got promoted?" Cryn asked me. His tone was innocent, but a quick glance in his direction made it clear he was up to something. Johnson's attention snapped up from his console as Cryn said this.

"You tell me. You're the one who went over my extended dossier with a fine tooth comb," I shot back.

"Nearly seven years," Johnson helpfully answered for me. Wondering what they were getting at, I turned to look at them both. Johnson had produced from somewhere a little box and had popped it open. A little gold pip, to replace my black one, was sitting in the box. "You're more than overdue."

"I think she was convinced she was going to die a Lieutenant junior grade," Cryn commented with a chuckle, and Johnson grinned at me. I was sitting in my chair slack jawed, and Johnson handed the box over to Cryn. I could tell there was more said in this gesture than I could decypher, but at the time I was still blind sided so it didn't even occur to me to even attempt to parse it out. Cryn changed out my pips for me, and Johnson told me that he had some good spirits tucked away if I wanted to celebrate later. I made a polite reply that neither accepted or declined the invitation, and the rest of the way back to the Shingen I was quiet.

Though, once I'd parted company with the Admiral and Cryn, I did hold my chin especially high to show off my new rank.

Mouse called to check with me about Adrijana, once she'd tracked him down, to see if I really knew her. Toby and I were a little involved when he called, and Toby only really stopped to let me grab my comm badge. Must say, continuing to have sex while trying to have a serious conversation and not tip off the conversation partner? Very sexy. I do think by the end of the conversation Mouse suspected something was up, but he did agree to help Adrijana out for me.

Later, as Toby and I were just sitting and talking, catching up, he asked me if I was finally playing nice with the other children on this new ship I was posted to. So I told him about running into Spiegel again, Toby remembered him and seems to like the guy. I also mentioned that Delilah was doing wonders for my popularity, except with the Andorian bastard who shot me in the back. Leave it to Toby to find amusement in my finding the one guy who'd happily drink with me, then turn around and shoot me in the back in the name of protecting me from myself.

While we were continuing to catch up, he told me about some of the more entertaining sex partners he'd had back on earth, I shot off a message about the authorization for the kitten Mouse was helping Adrijana find. Then Toby drug me back to bed, and I suspect we're not leaving it again until I get called back to the Takeda Shingen.

On my way off the ship to meet Toby finally, I ran into Adrijana. She walked with me to the airlock as she told me about the surprise party in the works for Noelle's pending commission. She was hoping I'd come, and also help in getting Noelle's present. She wants to get Noelle a kitten, and after seeing her playing with Delilah earlier, I could understand why. The woman absolutely lit up playing with Delilah.

I told her to talk to Mouse, and just mention I'd sent her. If anyone could come up with a kitten absolutely last minute like this, he could. I agreed to get the authorization for it, which I should be able to handle entirely remotely by the intership message system, but if not, Toby would probably occupy himself for a little bit if I had to go in for some face to face to sort it out. I've heard some rumors that Noelle is well liked by all parts of the crew, officers and enlisted alike, so hopefully that'll help make the getting authorization thing easy.

Ryan managed to dig up a bottle of 2309 Blood Wine in exchange for giving him the recording of his awesome night of h0t Vulcan sex0rs and promising not to sell it. I did neglect to mention I'd given Wade a copy, but he didn't ask. I'm not sure if she's the sort to sell it or just enjoy it herself. It's his own fault though, he knew where the camera was in his room and that McKay was automatically trolling for porn through the security feeds, he'd even bought some of the better stuff himself.

Mouse had found me some sharp pretty objects as a going away present, a katana and wakizashi. Earth traditional Japanese swords, the two often paired. Apparently there were some people still making them the traditional way, and he'd commissioned a set special for me. He'd intended them to be my birthday present, but they'd shown up early and I was being transferred, so he gave them to me now. Really pretty, especially sharp, and the lacquer work on the sheath and guard was blue roses on a black background.

As I was headed back to my quarters on the Shingen, swords and alcohol in hand, I literally ran into an old friend, Lucas Spiegel. His nose had been in a technical manual, and I was examining the label of the blood wine. We turned a corner and collided. He started to mumble an apology hardly looking up until he noticed what treasures he was helping me pick up off the floor. I'm pretty sure it was the Blood Wine that caught his attention, being the lover of alcohol he was, but it could have possibly been a combination of that and the swords.

Once he recognized me, he caught me in a hug making me drop everything all over again. He babbled something about hearing a rumor I'd be posted here, and that no one on the ship had heard anything. Also, I wasn't going to believe the awesome things the Andorian chief of security pulls while entirely presenting himself as a straight man. He was mildly taken aback by my curt comment of having met the man before and having a bone to pick.

He quickly changed the subject, and helped me pick up my things again. He asked if I wanted to go to one of the bars on 668 with him. He was disappointed when I pointed out the presence of the being called Lothar who often sings horribly, kills people, and drinks more alcohol that should be possible for any being. Also, I told him I'd settled my accounts with both bars on the station just the other day, and I wouldn't go into either bar carrying currency without being armed to the teeth. He settled for offering to bring a bottle of something good that I had never heard of before, and just sitting in one of our quarters to talk a while.

I figure I can pick his brain about the replicators when he comes to catch up, sometimes the game is only played by the noncom engineers, sometimes the commissioned engineers are included, but it really depends on how much trust there is between the two in the engineering department. Either way, if I can get my replicator back on, I'll be happy to keep up the ruse so that no one else catches on. Sometimes even I don't like officers, which often surprises people considering I am one.

While waiting for Spiegel to show, I think I'll see how the new sharp toys are weighted. There should be enough room in my quarters if I push the table to the side of the room, and lock Delilah in the bathroom to keep her from getting in the way. I'll have to look for a holodeck program to teach me the traditional way to use them, and once I master that then I can start experimenting with my own style.

Even though Toby's call last night had killed the mood for Mouse, he still slept over. He fell asleep pretty soon after that, and I stayed up a little longer to write my musings about Toby. When I woke up this morning, he was already borrowing my computer terminal, cat and replicator to make himself at home. Delilah was purring along and sitting in his lap, he had a cup of coffee, and he was checking his messages. The kid just can't switch off. He almost jumped out of his skin as I walked up behind him, unintentionally quiet in doing so, and put a hand on his shoulder.

After I apologized, I looked at the screen and saw my name. Apparently the promised transfer orders had arrived while Mouse and I had been at dinner last night. He made a comment about how he was both happy for me, and would miss me, so I assured him once again that I would keep in touch. I also pointed out that the ship was here for repairs, and while I was expected to report within two weeks, they were still here for at least another three, and I'd probably still be able to slip away if he wanted to have a little more time together.

When he finished his coffee and checking messages, he excused himself because he had another early shift today. I started packing up my stuff once he was out the door, and Delilah found every excuse to sit in the middle of whatever thing I was packing. Being the sort who didn't put down roots very easily, I had most of my stuff packed within the day. Of course, once the cat carrier came out of the closet, Delilah made for under the bed, but I elected to leave her there as I had some rounds I needed to do before I was ready to haul everything over to my new posting.

I stopped by So Long and Thanks For All the Fish, keeping an eye out for Lothar as I'd heard he'd stopped by the station again, and cornered Wade to settle up my tab and collect any alcohol I'd already bought and they were simply keeping for me. I got support for my suspicions as to which Storvik Ryan had bedded down the other night, as Wade had seen Ryan and the bearded Storvik leave together that night. When she found out that I had a recording, partial though it was, she gave me a generous discount on my tab in exchange for sending her a copy.

While gossiping, she brought up that in the excitement following my arrest that night, the Andorian I'd been drinking with didn't pay his tab. Even though the bastard had shot me in the back, I did not believe this was an intentional slight on his part, so I told Wade to just add it to my tab, and took possession of what was left of the bottle of Romulan Ale from that night. Since I'm pretty sure that bastard is also posted on the ship I've been transferred to, I figure I can settle that debt with him when I sort out the backstabbing issue. His bar tab was minor, as I'd already agreed to pay for half of what crossed the table between he, Storvik and I, so it would be nothing compared to the dishonor he did me shooting me in the back. Besides, I didn't want to see Wade and Ryan have to pay it out of their own wages for extending credit to someone who didn't pay.

I returned to my soon to be former quarters with the Romulan Ale, and a barrel of Blood Wine before I went to settle my debts at the other bar. Being the intrepid booze hound I was, and having a half Klingon metabolism, it had just turned out practical to have an open tab in each bar. The other bar proved quicker to handle, as I hadn't made friends with the staff there, so it was just a matter of paying off what I owed. I was in and out in no time, and wasn't bothered by any activity going on there at the time. I did detour past Tumor's stool, and gave him a departing "kiss". Probably broke his nose as my fist kissed his face. He looked love struck even as he clutched at his nose to try to stop the bleeding.

On my way back to my quarters, I came across Ensign Timmy. His current orders were to "go enthusiastically help out someone else", as the lieutenant he'd been partnered with in the hydropnics bay had his fill of enthusiasm. Timmy did confirm my suspicions that all they grew in hydroponics was the earth plant, cannabis, though I figured it out from his description of the plants grown. He was happy to help me in attempting to round up Delilah into her cat carrier, and to help me carry my belongings to the Takeda Shingen.

My transfer orders were so fresh that they didn't actually have quarters assigned for me yet, but refreshingly enough there was a competent crewman on duty who quickly sorted the problem out. As he guided me and Timmy to my new quarters, and even made friends with Delilah on the way, he warned me that replicators were currently down for repair in officers quarters. I usually liked to eat in the Mess, even if I still ate alone, but it would prove annoying on keeping Delilah fed. I figured the engineers were probably just trying to keep officers out of their hair by making it less comfortable on the ship, remembering some of the secrets of the trade that Spiegel had mentioned previously. I added to my mental check list to make some engineer friends on the ship, and I thanked the crewman for the warning without tipping him off that I suspected the secret.

Delilah's taken up vigil under my new bed, and I've looked into the Intership BBS. I'll have to set up a profile and start posting there soon. They don't let you into much unless you're a moderator or have a profile. I did promise Mouse I'd meet him for dinner again tonight, and then I believe I get to report into my new department head tomorrow. It'll be weird not being a department head, as on 668 I'd been highest ranking person in my department, Terra Nova had just exchanged me for another officer who wanted to stay on assignment in the Delta Quadrant, and I'd been hand picked for my skills by Kharaza for the Remington. It's been a while since I wasn't department head, but given that it gets me off Milliways, I'm not about to argue. Besides, sometimes the authority gets a little weighty, especially on a ship that's run correctly, so I might as well take the break handed to me.

I'm just going to hit the Mess for Delilah's food, before I go meet Mouse for dinner. He'll probably want me to stay the night, but since I don't have an actual appointment for reporting in, I should be fine.

Well, dinner with Mouse went okay enough. He's hurt that I'm going away, but he seems more annoyed that I'm still playing with the various hacks and programs McKay littered the station with as he settled in and took advantage of being chief engineer. Mouse doesn't seem to understand that one has to take advantage of assets as they come, regardless of where they come from. Until McKay turned on me because of artistic differences, he saw us as a couple, I saw him as a toy, he was a good person to have on hand. Engineers are good like that, especially if they have any skill. I remember that Spiegel guy I served with on the Rothmore, he was pretty resourceful and he actually saw me for what I was and didn't expect anything more than friendship in return. Guy had good taste in liquor though, he always found the best at any planet we hit for shoreleave.

I did initiate the self destruct on McKay's porn harvesting program, and wiped the data haven. If I get assigned to a ship, I'm not going to be able to run a porn distribution network like before, and with McKay under arrest and likely to get nailed to the wall for murdering Jefferies, he's not going to need it anymore. Besides, he only wanted the program to build his own collection up with, I'm the one who suggested selling it, so I don't feel bad if I cripple his porn collecting efforts if he does manage to get out of the murder charges.

I think Delilah's starting to suspect change is coming, she's getting distant from me again. I'm not sure how she always can tell when we're moving before I do, but each time I've had a transfer since I got her, she's always gotten distant weeks before we were due to leave, even when no one had told me yet.

Oh, and who should call just as Mouse and I are getting into the best of it, but Toby. The bastard hadn't been able to make the time to visit me the whole year I was stuck out here, and he wants to come out next month. He was a little crest fallen when I explained what was going on and that I could be gone by then. Mouse was a little taken aback when I opened the comm channel without bothering to put any clothes on, and was even more confused when Toby started asking personal questions about our sex. When I finally assured Toby I'd call him back later, it was too late to salvage anything with Mouse that night. The kid can get shit done that most people would balk at, is quite the kinkster, but is bashful as all hell. Good thing he's at least okay with sharing his sex partners, I don't think I could handle another person green with envy over me.

And like a cat, I've once again cheated death. Well, less death and more a horrible waste of time on a space station full of rejects. Some of the people on Milliways have been awesome, Mouse for one, but others have been little more than a frustration.

After Mouse did some detective work to get me out of being accused of murdering that moron Jefferies (good riddance that he's gone), I found an interesting message awaiting me when I returned to my quarters. I seem to still have a guardian angel, as the wife of Admiral asshole Paris petitioned her difficult husband to pull a transfer for me. I don't know where I'm going yet, but it has to be better than this hell hole.

I'm trying not to pack up my stuff yet, afraid I'll jinx this good luck before it comes through. Delilah's going to be pissed at me again though, she always hates it when we move.