Intergalactic Summit

It's been over a decade since my father died, but I still remember him clearly.

He was not a flashy man. He was quiet and unassuming. A military man, he valued discipline and order. I don't recall him ever raising his voice; he preferred to act while others did the talking.

When I was young, he'd gather me in his arms and I'd play with his beard. I never felt safer or more loved than when he held me.

Sometimes he'd be gone for months at a time. I think it was harder on my brother than on me. When he was home, we'd take trips to the sea. He knew how to handle water vessels as well as those that traveled between the stars. I got the feeling he preferred the ocean.

For hours, we'd sail, the waters choppy and grey, with cold air stinging our face. I talked and he listened. I don't remember what I talked about; the sort of things that are urgent to a young girl but probably had no interest to an adult. Still, he never acted bored or irritated by my chattering.

Then, one time, he didn't come back. I knew about pirates and boarder skirmishes, but it had never occurred to me that he might not come back. He was a great officer on a great ship in the great Khanid Navy -- what could touch him?

My mother spent three days crying before she finally told us. There was no body for a service.

Lots of times I wonder what he'd think of me. Would he have wanted me to be a capsuleer? I could have ended up wetgraving. Would he be proud of the choices I'd made? Maybe ashamed? Would he have wanted me to stay in Amarr space or encouraged me to spend time with the Caldari?

Tonight, when I sail through the stars, I remember him. I want to believe that he's sailing with me, still listening.

If you are, thank you. I hope I am everything you wanted me to be, dad.

That you seek to honor him and make him proud suggests you have likely done both.

A sentiment such as yours is far too valuable to cheapen with heavy words and long diatribes, so allow me to be brief:

May the memories of your father, and the man he was, never cease to inspire you to the greatness he undoubtedly knew you were capable of.

Godspeed, Mademoiselle Hanaya.

Duty is often difficult.