Where have the winds of war blown me? I have no idea where I am, let alone how to return to the place I'd called home before I washed up against these shores. The beacon seems unable to get a fix in known space, and as such, would be useful only if a scout ship came close enough to detect the signal. Yet if I activate said signal, who else would be able to receive it, and how are they allied? And what happened to my partner?
For now, I seem to be out of the war. As I sit in my bubble, here under the ocean, I find myself wondering at the calm beneath the waves. There are no wounded here, no lives or bodies shattered by colliding ideologies. There are no weapons, no disagreement.
On the one hand, it’s all what I’ve wanted for years: a place where I am not surrounded by the wounded, ground between by the machines of war. And yet, while I sit here, the war-beast has not ended. It still gnaws away at civilization, destroys bodies, lives, and worlds, and every healer missing is one fewer to repair those lives and bodies. I cannot say that I long to return, but duty demands that I try...
I need a plan. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll see more about this world. Perhaps then I’ll have a better idea of what next to do.