Wonderful Travel

I hate vacation. Especially when it's enforced by idiotic bureaucrats at Queiba Command who never go on their own vacations unless their mothers make them.

What made this one worse was the ridiculous amount of shuffling and travel delays. See, I was ordered to take a few months' leave after that training incident, on account of my behavior during the reporting (bribing is frowned upon), so I decided to go to Disa, the renowned resort planet.

Begin the saga of over a year. First my transport ship was canceled, so I waited at headquarters for another month waiting for the next one. Then that one was canceled, and the third. By the time I got to Disa, I had had my vacation already in the comfort of my private room at Command, but the higher-ups said I still had to go, so off I went.

The next few weeks were uneventful, with me just lying in the sun, reading tactical and technical manuals (like I said, I hate vacations). Then I got involved with an alien explorer, who said she was looking for something but an old Fuluugo wanted to buy the map she had. I ended up finding it with her, then it got destroyed in a fight between the two of them.

So I went back to my manuals.

The day before I was supposed to leave, someone stole my baggage, and I ended up missing that transport. I had to wait another month, and then my suitcases got lost in transit. I tried telling the handling agent that I had classified papers in my baggage, to no avail. Did I mention that I hate vacations?

So without my personal belongings (at least they're replaceable; I'd never be foolish enough to bring along things of sentimental value), I set off back to Headquarters and my ship. Or so I thought.

Kachabian street thugs captured me a glinnt outside the airport, and my efforts to escape were thwarted at every turn. I spent a month underground with them, cooking meals for them, before I was rescued by Queiba Command. I do not wish to recall the experience of cooking pureed worms for a race of thieving thugs who earn their keep capturing and selling people. Fortunately they did not get as far as selling me; it is said that those sold never find home again.

Eventually, I managed to return to my ship, and we got back to our duties, and we have been assigned to patrol the Rorbulan border and warn Command of any stray patrols from their side. What a colossal waste of time, that vacation. Next time, I'll hide in the reactor maintenance access port. I won't be separated from my ship and log for so long that way (I can sneak to the computer periodically).

-Commander Nemulo of the Qlaque