Memoir: Damon Memoir 2

22 Dec 2041 AE: A page in Damon's notebook, which doesn't appear to have many entries.

What the hell am I doing?

I'm the nice guy. I make people laugh, I get along with everyone, people like me. Now I'm brigging Nikolai for showing up five minutes late? He's been working a minimum of twelve hours every day, still struggling to learn everything we're throwing at him. Fix this, maintain that, repair these decks, salvage this stuff, and oh, by the way, you're never going home again. You're only twenty years young and the worlds are gone. We get hammered by Cylons and I see you jump every time there's a loud noise on the Deck. You're just a Specialist. Like Bannik, and look what I did to him.

But I can't go easy on either of you. Right? This is the right thing to do. Gotta make an example, gotta be firm when rules are broken, that's what the leadership manual says. Frak, I don't know what I'm doing. I got promoted to Chief the same year I got my PO1. Atreus, why'd you have to leave? You would've known what to do. When to be light-handed and when to bring down the hammer. Instead, the Deck has got me, the guy who can't even figure out how he got a girlfriend. You'd better still be alive and hating it down there on Aerilon so that when we go back there, you come begging to take your old job back.

Time to suit up and get to work. Another night gone with no sleep. Enough bitching for one night; man up and be a leader.

Whatever the frak that means.

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