January 13th, 2552 The stick
Well, two months after launch and any progress we’d made as individuals has been forfeit. We’re all back to washing dishes, doing laundry, and cleaning areas no one else wants to clean.
Worse, the guards are being particularly focused on keeping us away from anything that could be used against the crew— like silverware, and napkins… they do know we’re serving and prepping food, right?
On the bright side, its easier to present a united front when you’re stuck together.
The irony is, I’m still too numb from the attack and the aftermath- Threats aren’t necessary— I’ve seen first hand just how delicate the balance is between livable and vacuum.
The next blow came this evening after a hard day’s work: Our library access has been revoked and our datapads have been locked in the captain’s office until he can review them and us.
The only bright side to this is the fact that I’m not killing myself running the shuttles between the Twilight and the Valkyrie like the rest of the pilots.