He had been on more than his share of starships. In the Imperial Navy you served on one vessel for most of your career. You did your six weeks basic and then a year at “A” school. You were then a fully qualified rookie that didn’t know squat. When you got assigned to a starship was when the real learning began.

He learned that each ship has a different predominant emotion. On his first ship, the Hartford, the emotion was exhilaration. Travel to far star systems, see new things. That lasted six months. He was on a day pass from the ship, eating a hamburger at a restaurant on starbase six, when the Kut attacked. His ship was hit on the first volley. No survivors.

He was reassigned to the Midway. Anger ruled. The lust for revenge. 115 days later she too succumbed to volleys of Kut missiles. He was among the last to be found alive.

He walked along the corridor looking for the docking bay the Boston would be in. He wondered what emotion his new home would have. He knew as soon as he saw it. Woe, Bay B.