18-04-YC122

Happy Birthday, My Darling Kolya!

How lucky we are to have communications such as we have today.  Although I have been so terribly busy of late, I could not possibly allow my brother's birthday to pass without contacting him.  I do miss my family, and Kolya most of all.  Now that he has transferred over to the Sarum Navy since the restructuring, he has as much free time as I do, which is to say very little, so we are blessed that the whole family can come together through the network.  That is when it works, of course.  I should think Kolya and the rest of the family have very few problems, but here in the warzone, communications are constantly being interrupted.  No doubt Tribals electronic warfare attempts.  I suppose one cannot be surprised.  We do the same.

It seems so long ago since I faced this warzone with trepidation.  I suppose in many ways it is.  I could never have imagined, back at my very entrance into the Academy, that I would, by this point, be forming a rather impressive killboard.  Indeed, at any point.  Of course, it is nothing when compared with many other far more skilled capsuleers, on all sides, and, personally, I do not consider such things worthy of note, least of all my own, yet I cannot deny that I have come a long way.

There is, however, always a price to pay for success.  I do not mean my losses, for they, now that I have become accustomed to the inevitability of such thing, mean as little as my victories.  No, I mean the loneliness.  Everything is so filled up with duties and responsibilities of one sort of another that I barely seen anyone else in a social context.  I am so grateful to God and the Eternal Empress that I can have these moment with my family, even if it they are only through long-distance communications.  Even when I go back to Mehatoor I do not see anyone I am particularly familiar with.  There are the fights, of course, which pass the time and keep me focused, to say nothing of honing my skills, but little wonder that when I do have some time to myself it is mostly spent in the comfortable numbness of Esfand.

The klaxon again!  Another call to arms.  I barely have time to even write anymore.  I fear this region shall never be secured by anyone. A eternity of fighting.  I wonder - even if one side or another does win, what shall be left for them to display their victory?