Tuesday, don't know the date: This will look good on my war record. When I get back to the republic, my candidacy will be unstoppable.
Thursday, still don't know the date: Strayer needs to die. He refuses to use my title. I keep telling him that the election is a mere formality. He should start using my future title now to get in my good graces.
Sunday, I think: The disarmament treaty failed. I've got the Republic's treasure. The other ambassador's have all fled. It's time I returned to my people. I'm leaving this note to be found by future scholars. They will marvel at my accomplishments.
This page was last edited on 16 March 2015, at 00:04.
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