01-09-YC121

Between the Triglavians invading Nakri, my various duties, and the delightful distractions of Lilya, I have neglected this journal.  Not, of course, that anyone but myself shall ever read these words, but the writing helps my focus.

I have also neglected Ioannis.  I feel quite guilty for the unspoken message I gave him, a message that I cannot say was unintentional at the time.  Yet I was not expecting for Lilya and I to become lovers.  Perhaps Ioannis was genuine, but I have learned of his reputation, and I have no desire to be used by another selfish man, of being humiliated as the Archbishop did.

Ioannis sent the most beautiful gift  - The Explorations of Soromia Vetragat" - and the most touching letter.  It seems that unlike some others, Ioannis actually made some effort to understand me in our brief time working together.  He also seems to have accepted that there can be nothing between us, although he cannot have known of Lilya and I when he wrote it, so he must have realised the vast gulf between our personal circumstances.  Regardless, I do hope we will have the opportunity to work together again in the near future.  There is still much work to be done on the site in Sarum Prime.

I am, however, a little more torn over his gift of the necklace.  His ingenious, and delightful, game of  recreating an actual book that was in fact a puzzle again showed he made pains to find out the sorts of things that please and amuse m, but upon opening it and seeing that beautiful sapphire necklace!  He writes in his letter that it is a gift of apology for his behaviour, though he really not feel sorry for was it not I that kissed him?  Yet, such an exquisite piece seems awfully valuable for a simple apology, and besides, the last time I was gifted a necklace was    well, never mind, that is not important.  I do wonder if I should return, though if I do so I shall not simply leave it without a word as I did with Constantin's bauble.  I will speak to Ioannis and explain.  I am sure he will understand.

I should prepare for my surgery.  Lilya medical staff have finished growing my new eyeball and I will have it transplanted today.  Lilya has been on fleet operations with LUMEN, but I hope she will be there when I come out from the anaesthetic.  I took part in PIE operations last night, with Admiral Xideinis and Captain Shutaq (I really must get used to using their new titles), and two of our Crusade allies, and afterward Aldrith and I went to the Coffee House in Tanoo.  I really rather think Aldrith took me there as a sort of sardonic joke, given it is owned by the Archbishop's family.  That, and Aldrith is quite well aware I do not particularly like coffee.  Still, it was pleasant to sit and talk with him, and it felt much like the days when we first met.  I miss those days.  Darker times are coming, and there is much that will bring us difficulty and sorrow.  I am convinced that there are enemies close to home that others are not aware of, enemies that appear as friends and fool those who should stand as our allies.  We shall need less conventional methods of warfare, I should think.  Indeed, it may be necessary for us to make use of those who currently appear as enemies but should really be our friends - or at least willing, if ignorant, tools.

Such things seem so easy to write of, of course, so routine and mudane, despite their importance.  Other things seem much harder.  Death is a constant for warriors, of course, and more so for capsuleers, and yet, because of our immortal nature, it often seems meaningless, barely worth a mention.  That is why, when a True Death occurs, it seems to unreal, as though such a thing cannot be.  When one becomes a capsuleer, and experiences one's First Death, it loses its sting, its terrifying finality.  Familiarity breeds contempt.  Yet I think that such familiarity also means we cease understanding it, though that sounds somewhat counter-intuitive.  We lose our concept of Death.

Doctor Druur Monakh is no longer among us.  I do not know many details, but I understand that there was a cloning failure.  It is rare, but it does happen, and it is a risk all capsuleers take, though one we barely think of at all.  I am saddened, of course, and Lilya, understandably, is very, very upset. I thought nothing of the altercation I had with her, and now I regret that it was our last interaction.  We had our differences, and I do not think anything would have resolved them, but it should not have been left the way it was.  That is my fault, for I know she wished to talk with me, perhaps to make some form of peace between us, and now we never shall.  I have asked Father Mikhail to light a candle in our chapel in her memory, and I pray that her soul finds rest. Lilya has been given the care of her children left behind - though one is now older than Lilya herself.  I have promised to give all the assistance I can.  Perhaps that way I can do something to make amends for the wrong I committed.