#sof log

Begin log!

Small one today. I’m a liiiittle worried that my original memories will be displaced by those of Spirit of Fire, though Serina tells me I shouldn’t really worry. It’s not just me in my own body now, after all, but Spirit’s, well, spirit is like a cowling of sorts. Whenever I don her rigging the connection grows stronger... 

Can’t help but imagine the bad end to that though and it turns out that I’m right! I gave my resolve, yet the thought of being swallowed up like that is terrifiant!  Damn it, the French came out. C’est dommage...not like I’m not proud of it, but I don’t speak it much anymore. 

A few more things for posterity, I guess. I am-was-a freelance journalist, and I’ve been following the shipgirls and their fight against the Abyssal fleets for almost as long as I’ve been in the profession. 

I’ve witnessed so many events, great, terrible, and both great and terrible, arise as the war intensified against their infernal existence. Everything that I have seen, I have chronicled in photos, in articles, in stories, to share them with the world in hopes of some remembrance. Humans have short memories, sometimes. I don’t want any of the shipgirls’ sacrifices to go forgotten, not for everything they’ve done. This conflict is especially brutal, and I’ve done my best up until donning Spirit of Fire’s mantle to preserve it for future generations.

I don’t know whether there is a true beginning for the fleets that come from beneath the surface, but if we find one, I hope we don’t repeat the mistake.

Time for practice though. Serina said I was supposed to start learning how to manipulate the rigging. The only thing I can do so far is walk with the thrusters’ assistance and pull up a basic command menu for myself. I wonder if natural shipgirls have this kind of problem...?

Log Entry, 28 May 20XX

Begin log. ...Is that all I have to do? There’s not a light or anything that shows that I’m being recorded...oh! There it is! Ah, no, it caught everything I just said! Oooh...but if I terminate it now... Deep sigh, followed by a chuckle. 

Guess I’ll wing it like everything else I tend to do. This is the first log of the...kanmusu? Shipgirl? Uh...okay. Your suggestion then. 

A small cough.  This is the first log entry of the United Nations Space Command vessel, CFV-88 Spirit of Fire. I was human and think I still am, but I harbor something more now. Something that’s as warm as the name itself, but filled too with a cool sadness of many years of service and a bitter end. I...don’t know how to process any of this yet. As long as I’m connected to the rigging, I’m awash in so many memories that they all blend together, of a place and time I couldn’t even imagine. 

It’s only my first day with the rigging and already I feel a burden, a mantle of responsibility that falls over my shoulders. It’s not that I thought becoming a shipgirl or bearer of a vessel would be fun and games; no, I knew what I was getting into. But the reality is so very, very somber, and my eyes water at the thought of what it means.

Besides the machinery itself, powerful, well-worn, old but willing to fight on, the spirits of the crew are with me too as ‘fairies.’ People whose lives have passed on, but were raised with the ship. They all want to talk to me, clamor to me, vying for my attention as they want to teach me so many things and show me the vessel that was christened with such a brilliant name. 

Another sigh, softer. 

But the only one I can understand right now is the one named Serina. A ‘smart Ai’ is what she called herself, but smartass is more like it-OW! Okay, you didn’t like the joke! Haaa...she’s tough and doesn’t take my lip.

I wanted to start this log series as a personal journal for my new life as Spirit of Fire, to describe what I’ve become and how it affects me. I want to look back and hopefully see how much I’ve grown.

Ah, right. To remember my human name too. My name is...

Sofie Roux. Part cheese-eater, heeeh! 

Serina, how do I get it to stop recording? 

Silence. Soft noises of affirmation. 

Okay. 

End log. 

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Her immense rigging was off, the partitions of hull and structure which represented Spirit of Fire’s original vessel hanging in a specially made dock that could withstand the immense tonnage of the space carrier. Sofie was dressed in a black, slightly fitted version of the UNSC officer’s uniform with her magnum holstered and strapped to her right leg, though for now she had her boots off and her feet dipped into the cool waters of the bay. Her crimson hair was a sharp contrast to the dark, sleek colors of the uniform, and was probably her most identifying feature. 

Stretching backwards, Sofie groaned loudly as she felt her back crack, giving a small grin as she looked upwards at the boundless blue sky above. While her rigging may have been gifted to her on Earth, her actual station was to be in space.

With all of its unknown vastness, good or ill.

“My new journey starts today...” She muttered to herself, staring solemnly at the sky before a giggling snort broke her composure.