Mortis: Spare me...

Recorder on.

The view is different again. Not the quarters on the CONCORD station, nor the clean, stark lines of Midnight's Embrace. This new Screen Room is fluid, organic in design. Above the multitude of screens is a plaque with the legend VCS Oenone, and below that another, more recent one: Eternity's Shroud.

Mortis sits in the usual chair at the heart of the semi-circle, his expression a combination of annoyance and amusement.

I swear someone has been pumping pheromones into the air recyclers around here. I can think of no other explanation for the outbreak of downright soppiness among the Ghosts.

Repentence doesn't particularly surprise me, of course. She plays the spunky rebel, but she's a sweet, naive innocent out here. Still soft. When I spoke with her the other day, it was clear that she's absolutely devoted to Inara. Oh, she complained, pouted, went through all the motions, but she wouldn't dream of going against the woman.

He looks thoughtful.

I can't imagine that Inara hasn't noticed that she's almost become a surrogate mother for Reppy. Though I doubt that Reppy herself would realise it. Still, I can't see the harm. She's learning more useful things under that Achura's guidance than our biological mother could have offered. My initial concerns about their relationship were, I think, ill-founded. Not that my surveillance, such as it is possible, will lighten. I'm still determined to break the security on that carrier, if just for the satisfaction of having done it.

But Elysa is a different matter.

He snorts.

When she reported in last night before going to sleep, she was clearly high on Blue. While I won't deny that it was refreshing to have the woman smiling and pleasant, I'm concerned. Whatever Inara is doing with her is clearly having a major effect, and I'm not sure whether it's going to be a positive one long-term. It may be cold, but part of Elysa's value, the reason that I advanced her to being my right hand, was that she's absolutely ruthless and logical to a fault. Her blunt attitude had a purpose. If that changes... well, I'll have to rethink her place in the TerrorNet.

He snorts again.

Damn Reppy. She's got that nickname on my brain now.

Where was I?

Oh yes. I'll be keeping a very close eye on both Inara and Elysa. If I don't like where things are going, I may have to intervene. Part of me wants to do so now, but I suspect that there will be no good moment to break up this little therapy deal, if it becomes necessary.

I'd be more confident in Inara's abilities if she herself were immune, but no, even she's been bitten. My respect for her has grown steadily since we met, partly because she consistently repels my attempts to breach her security, partly because I simply recognise a lot of myself in her. But that respect may start waning if she continues making a fool of herself over Vincent Pryce.

He snorts, and takes a sip of water from a glass on the desk.

Perhaps that is harsh, but she's hardly maintaining her image. And Vince should know better than to encourage her. Did that walking emotional disaster zone learn nothing from his breakup with Kimochi?

He takes another sip, and makes a face.

I've seen entire systems tear themselves apart, I've watched an Erebus-class Titan die and I've witnessed a full battlefleet of Fleet Issue Tempests blaze through lowsec, but picking up the pieces of that crisis was the messiest thing I've ever witnessed. Best thing Vince can do is back off. Healing any potential rift is one thing, inviting her back to his quarters? As I recall, that was what he did with Miss Talan.

And then there's Koronakesh and his thousand tangled relationships. And people say I have problems connecting with people. I've seen nothing to convince me that our new ex-Praetorian is anything other than another disaster zone. The fact that he's drawing Kimochi into it does not inspire confidence in any way.

Oh, I'm sure that they mean well. All harmless, no intent to start anything. Kimochi can't be on the lookout for another relationship, not after the way the last one ended. But you know what they say about good intentions. Just a slip, an incautious moment, one rush of hormones, and guess what...

He grimaces.

I realise that my view is skewed. It's been thirteen years since I felt anything more than affection for someone. Thirteen years since Amarrian Intelligence hardwired my emotions into a chip. Thirteen years of hormone-free living. I don't even remember what love felt like. I didn't even try to regain contact with the woman I was engaged to when I returned from Intel. Didn't see any value. Think she went off and got married to someone else in the end.

In less than two months, I've seen three heartbreaks among the Ghosts, and I doubt that they'll slow down. The worst I've suffered in those thirteen years was the loss of a particularly expensive ship.

Some might call my life a hollow, empty hell.

He smirks coldly.

Given the alternative, I call it heaven.

Recorder off.