Intergalactic Summit

You might find that your abandonment of our culture and religion would interfere with your acceptance as an instructor at the SWA, let alone your ability to write doctrine for training there. As some doors open, in life, others close.

I'm just saying. You should consider it.

I personally see far more similarities between God and The Maker than God and Cold Wind. Not only would you have to accept the concept of God having someone raised above him in authority (which I'm certain would make Aldrith VERY stern) but Cold Wind is particularly concerned with the Peaks, and the Athran's are very set on God's focus being much wider.

Regarding the culture element, I have to say I found it amusing that you put your hand on your heart and proclaimed your enduring loyalty to the ways of our ancestors whilst then claiming a Sebiestor wife. Now, don't get me wrong, I personally find Sebiestor women very appealing, in my opinion they are very compatible with the Civire outlook on life and make excellent friends, lovers and partners - but one can hardly take one to wife and then claim to be following tradition!

One last visit to my home world to watch the Sun set.

You may be projecting, here.

The heart of Caldari society is survival and it should be noted that money can be exchanged for goods and/or services. These are useful for survival.

Sleep.

I mean a really, good night's sleep. At least nine hours in a real bed on a nice world with comfortable weather and gravity. Going from my last year at University right into the pod, I don't think I've managed more than six hours (usually with company) on a station cot (those things are NOT beds).

No gym. No exercise, not even swimming. No combat training. No gun range. No meditation. Regular clothes, not a flightsuit. No glasses. No skills jacked in my brain.

Have a good meal. Not the pre-processed nutrition-filled dreck you get on many stations, but a meal made from local indigenous plants and fish and mammals, skillfully crafted by a local from local recipes. Not spacer food.

Read. A story. Not a technical manual. Not a treatise on ship combat strategies. Not the specs for a ship or a gun or a drone. Not the news. Not this f*cking Summit. A story. Maybe even from a book (mashed tree pulp bound together and printed on with ink). A story with characters and a plot and depth and the good guys win, the bad guys lose and everyone has a happy denouement.

Then a nap. Then more food.

Then I'd tend bar someplace. Not a spacer bar, but a local bar or club in a decent-sized city filled with locals. Good music, good booze, good drugs, pretty people to look at and just listen. Listen to their thoughts, their dreams, their complaints. Get an idea on what their lives are like. Hear them b*tch about their kids, their bosses, their spouses. Have you ever had a conversation with someone who has never killed someone before? It's f*cking weird.

Then, late night, I'd go for a walk. In a silent city after hours, open sky. No domes, no spaceports. Just silent urban environment after it's gone to bed. Feel the presence of buildings, the residual warmth of the pavement, hear the distant sounds of ground cars, hover bikes and people. Walk in city shadow and starlight.

Walk until I get back to that bed and sleep again.