Darkness Reigns

The PARAMOUNT WARHORSE has been decommissioned and its crew relegated to the bottom of the ocean. After sailing into the storm that Asterion apparently prognosticated in his dreams, I took part in the attack on his turncoat brethren as part of the vanguard of boarders, fighting side by side with Asterion and the Sara Militant in the thick of this battle. The opposing crew was quite clearly not alive, being animated by M-type-VII undine organisms, save for their leader Terminus, who was in control of aforementioned organisms. It will be recorded that I managed to best one of them. Kakia, in spite of his ludicrous ideology and previous indifference, elected to employ his skills this time; probably exceeding the efficiency of the entire crew put together twice. In the end, Terminus was rendered unconscious by a furious Asterion, though not before he had inflicted significant injury of supernatural origin on him. Around five casualties were sustained during the course of the battle: of these, four were mortally wounded. Though little more than familiar strangers, I grieve for them. May they be welcomed in honour by their gods and goddesses, if they observed any. It did not seem the time to ask. Also, Calliope went through this ordeal unscathed. It was probably not her first round in the ring, which means I missed her debut. A shame.
 
Somewhat concurrently, measures began to relocate trophies, supplies, and other items of note to the Sara Militant. Myself, Asterion, Damocles, and Epimetheus went to secure the vessel. Of course, I only sought to acquire the mission objective of Disciple Uniform. The captain's quarters was a downright stinkhole decorated in the likeness of what I can only describe as that of a mental asylum for codfish and seaweed. The floors and walls were inscribed with the same repeating message which Damocles graciously translated for us. Asterion and I spent considerable time collecting the disorganised logs and records of the PARAMOUNT WARHORSE. It was Damocles, on sovereign initiative and in the company of himself, who wandered off and managed to find the one chest that contained notable evidence and contraband, including the objective of Disciple Uniform. Fortunately, he had not started to read it, though any naturally curious individual will want to know its contents and how my role relates to it. Its return will be complicated. Some liberties may have to be exercised. In summation, I am not looking forward to this.
 
When all was done I had a short talk with Epimetheus. He felt at guilt for the losses sustained today. I did what I could to alleviate this misplaced grief. Listening and understanding is a part of the job, after all. Though I do not understand why he has begun to trust me so quickly. I am half his age, and yet he thinks of me as some form of inspiration! I am not. I am a wreck, always surpassed in excellence by those closest to me. I am an act, and my life is built around it. Also, "you're like a wall?" Does it mean plain? Boring? Unresponsive? Devoid of personality? I am most definitely none of that! His language also needs to calm down. The CADUCEUS PROTOCOL is dangerously close to being implemented.
 
The interrogation of Terminus was a mostly barbaric affair. Asterion and Damocles are under the delusion that physical violence and torture are viable means of extracting information, which it is categorically not. Products of their environment and all that. Terrible basis for morality. Of course, the legal masterminds of Fontus agree with them, since Terminus was a cultist and insurrectionist, and thus deserving of cruel and unusual punishment. Or an "application of reasonable corporal punishment for the crime of ABYSSAL HERESY," in their terminology. Damocles even utilised his powers to extend Terminus' life after a particularly savage beating. The state of Fontus would accept this infraction in light of Terminus' crimes. I pretended otherwise and asked if he knew the punishment for this type of arbitrary prolongation under the law of Fontus; one human lifetime, though he did not care to listen, and instead invoked the non-existent law of the sea to serve as the defense for his brutality. In the end, Asterion denied me the opportunity to pose a few questions of my own to Terminus, instead unceremoniously executing him. This whole travesty of justice has made me feel ill, and I almost feel obligated to compile personnel files in response. Almost. If I survive the coming days, that is what I shall endeavour to do.
 
Phrase of the day: STUBBORNNESS AND SPITE. Asterion's colourful description of what makes the Sara Militant run, or float, I guess. A fitting mantra.