Hello, my name is Charles

by on November 15, 2012 at 12:01 am
Posted In: Diaries

I arrived late to the celebration at Old New York.  I was late enough that I did not have time to celebrate at all.  My guide never arrived.  That was my first clue that while The War was over, we would not yet know peace.  It is the lot in life for Veterans to always have problems with that notion.  We fight, and then we are forgotten.  To their credit, America tried to remember the Veterans.  But it is hard to remember a warrior, when you try to forget The War.

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Hello, my name is Jack

by on November 14, 2012 at 12:01 am
Posted In: Diaries

I remember the celebration at Old New York like it was yesterday.  I found myself with old friends, some of the few who survived the fall of Yosemite.  They held me together.  Well, they say that we held each other together, but they were always stronger than me.  Don’t trust them if they say anything different.  They met me in Old New York and we celebrated the fact that we still lived.  Not that we won.  Just that we lived.  It was a really awesome night.

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Hello, my name is Betty

by on November 13, 2012 at 12:01 am
Posted In: Diaries

After The War, we went to Old New York for the celebration of War’s end.  The celebration went on for months, as Veterans came from across known space.  Whether retiring or on liberty, the Veterans came home and celebrated with the people who came to meet them and thank them for twenty years of service to humanity.  It was amazing, and we will never forget it.

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Hello, my name is Dorothy

by on November 12, 2012 at 12:01 am
Posted In: Diaries

Stories, and the ability to tell them, are one of the many things that make us human.  Our imaginations drive us to do things we don’t yet know how to do.  Our wishes make us grow, our growth makes us learn, and our learning makes us realize just how little we really know.  And it is stories that make our imaginations run wild, or wishes expand, and bring us the knowledge we crave.  Please, never deprive our children of the stories that made us who we are.  Human.

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Hello, my name is Charles

by on November 11, 2012 at 12:01 am
Posted In: Diaries

When the Peloran made Contact, we used rocket ships.  Orbital elevators were our only cheap way into space.  We had no control of gravity the way we do now.  Then the Peloran Battle Squadron flashed into existence before our very eyes, deep inside our hyperspace limit, and their gravtech battleship maneuvered more easily than one of our fighters.  They could have wiped us out in a day and we wouldn’t have scratched their hulls.  Thank God they were here to help us.

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