0700 Local Ship Time
The hum of the Phoenix is a constant companion, a low thrum that vibrates through my bones. The auto-pilot, bless its rigid circuits, keeps us on course, a straight line through the void toward… well, toward our next point of call. But straight lines, I'm finding, aren't always the best when you need to account for… well, everything. It's efficient, I suppose, but lacks the nuance, the soul a living crew brings. It’s a machine, and I need eyes, hands that can see the small things. I’ve been spending too much time fussing over logs and system checks. It’s time to get organized.
1100 Local Ship Time
First round of interviews this morning. Mostly engineers, drawn by the promise of working on something…well, not another transport freighter. A few decent candidates, and I think I have a line on a maintenance chief. A woman named Anya, a former shipyard mechanic. Smart, sharp, and doesn't blanch when I talk about the Phoenix needing to be ‘tiptop’. Also interviewed three prospects for the log-keeper position. One was too green, the second seemed more interested in the food synthesizer inventory, and the last…well, I think I might have found my match. Quiet, organized, keeps records with impressive detail. She asked about the history of the Phoenix, not just its current configuration. I like that.
1400 Local Ship Time
Reviewing the readiness reports for the Hydra, Mule, and Tanker. They're running as expected. I’ve made a note to make the automated reports a little more… digestible. They just drone on with so much detail that's not relevant. Honestly, I barely skim them now. The autopilot can handle it. The maintenance, and log keeping is honestly just to make sure we are making the most credits we can. Not back logged by space, and two; We are combat ready. Don't underestimate this. If my point defense systems are a second slower, due to an old circuit, a missile will get through. It's high time I did this. I only have enough time to do everything on my own.
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1800 Local Ship Time
Anya’s been touring the Phoenix’s engine room with a handful of maintenance droids, giving them a thorough once-over. I watched for a bit. The way she moved around the machinery… effortless, like she could feel the ship’s pulse. The log keeper, Elara, is already setting up her station, organizing data streams. She gave me a look when I brought up the need for her to also monitor maintenance logs. A look that said “Duh. Of course I am.” I like her.
2100 Local Ship Time
Dinner with Anya and Elara in the mess. The conversation ranged from the metallurgy of the Phoenix's hull to the optimal data storage protocols for multi-faceted sensor feeds. It's good. Really good. I can feel the weight lifting off my shoulders. They get it, the importance of a finely tuned, responsive ship. I know the Phoenix is old. I’m going to treat her like she’s the most advanced ship in the galaxy, and that she's going to win any fight we get into.
2300 Local Ship Time
Just before I turned in, I wandered out to the observation deck. The stars are a glittering tapestry, reminding me of the scale of it all. I'm no longer just a captain piloting a starship. I'm building a team, a crew. And that's… more than I could have hoped for. I still need to work on crew for my light frigates. But that’s tomorrow. For now, sleep. And for the first time in a while, I feel… confident. The Phoenix is in good hands. And that’s all that matters right now.