## **Personal Log – Petty Officer First Class Kara DeSoto**

Posted on Sat Nov 15th, 2025 @ 7:56am by Petty Officer 1st Class Kara DeSotto & Avalon [ADMIN NPC]

Mission: Season 6: Episode 6: Conglomerate
435 words - 0.9 OF Standard Post Measure

## **Personal Log – Petty Officer First Class Kara DeSoto**
*Recording: Private / Encrypted*

> **Begin Log.**

I finally shut down the console in Admin three hours ago, but sleep isn’t coming.

I walked the corridor on Deck Two instead — it’s quiet there after midnight, and you can almost forget the burn marks on the bulkheads.

The ship feels… tired. Like we all are. Every sound echoes a little too much. Every silence feels like a warning.

I passed the Commodore’s quarters earlier. The lights were low. I didn’t stop — just kept walking — but I could hear the faint sound of her children laughing inside. Elizabeth and William. I think that sound did more to steady me than anything since the attack.

Later, near the junction, I ran into Tristi. She was taking a break from sitting outside the nursery with a padd in her lap, reading to keep herself awake. Sixteen years old, and already carrying the weight of an entire family on her shoulders. She told me she stays there at night, since the attack, just in case.

We talked for a few minutes. Nothing important — just… quiet things. How the little ones have started asking where their mama was, and how she said that the Commodore was keeping them and the ship safe.

She has her adoptive mother’s strength, and her adoptive father’s calm. And that spark — that bit of light — that belongs to her alone.

When I got back to my quarters, I realized I hadn’t eaten since midday. I replicated soup, but it went cold before I touched it. My thoughts keep circling the same point — the way the Commodore looked tonight. The weight she carries for all of us.

I told her to rest. I doubt she has.

It’s strange — she leads from the bridge, but it’s her family that reminds the rest of us what we’re fighting to protect. Seeing them alive, together, makes the crew believe we can be, too.

I don’t know what’s waiting out there in the dark — whether those ships are coming back, or whether this was just a warning. But I do know this: if they come again, we’ll be ready. Not because of orders or tactics, but because this ship still remembers *why* we fight.

Tomorrow I’ll start a new casualty rotation file and update supply manifests for Medical. But tonight, just for a moment, I’m going to let myself listen to the hum of the deck plates and pretend it’s the heartbeat of something still strong.

> **End Log.**

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