September 3^rd, 3067

The Third Transfer. It is only weeks from us. Finally, some of the damage done by Focht will be undone. Finally, we will be in a position to further curb the increasingly vicious wars that are prevalent. Finally, we will be able to neutralize the Clan threat, with the last Great Army humanity will ever have to unleash on his fellow man.

It is difficult not to be almost giddy with joy! To think we might actually see Blake's vision come true in our own lifetime! I had honestly believed that my life would be spent toiling away to accomplish a step along a path made much longer by all the reversals of the last several decades.

And, to be honest, it will be nice to stop being a joke. Sure, we get plenty of respect on hundreds of worlds, but I can't help but feel the sting when I read some of the scorn our Order gets in some parts of the Inner Sphere. And when it stems from New Avalon, it particularly vexes. Toaster worshipper. How can we be that misunderstood, and trivialized? And then they give their own machines pet-names, and pray for luck when engaging them at particularly critical moments. That they do it to their deity of choice rather than Blake is irrelevant, Blake is a symbol of that which we all revere and fear in technology, and the element that allows us to see enough of ourselves in a machine to name it. Would we name a rock, or sand? That is all that it is, and yet we are the toaster-worshippers.

Well, enough of that whining. I'm not supposed to care what "unbelievers" say of our convictions, but it's hard to think of everyone that way.

In closing, I realize that we face only the beginning of a new great labor for our Order, but I am immensely relieved that now, at least we can begin in earnest. Humanity has been divided too long. All the effort that was wasted on three-hundred years of warfare will soon be better spent.

I will be there, when the Third Transfer will occur, at New Avalon. In the colors of the Star League, we will present an olive branch to one of the realms who has been the Order's most stalwart opponent. We will offer them aid to rebuild after the senseless civil war. We will offer them protection. We will offer them friendship and forgiveness as a demonstration of what the Star League truly means.

Maybe we will meet, you and I. And perhaps, when I once more walk in the light of New Avalon, we two can talk again.

December 4^th, 3067

I cannot recall feeling the same level of defeat and disappointment as I feel now. All has been ruined! It seems impossible that now, when we might actually begin the work that will advance humanity out of its destructive and ignorant cycle, the greed and corruption of the thrice damned have managed to destroy it all.

They've cast aside the Star League as a cheap toy that has lost its interest! Too expensive they say! TOO EXPENSIVE! HOW DARE THEY?!!!!

The future of mankind burdens their coffins. DAMN that Steiner-Davion spawn. Haven't they inflicted enough harm on the universe? Their shortsightedness and selfishness is unforgivable. That for which thousands have fought and died, and they cast it aside because it wasn't giving enough return on their precious investment. When have they ever shed a tear for anything but for their own betterment and troubles? Their "selfless" acts do not extend beyond their borders.

YOU follow these people, father! What is there to follow? Why do you follow such people?

Despite my anger, despite my disappointment, the order to attack does worry me. Certainly, the leadership of the Federated Suns deserve to be punished and removed just as much as those on Luthien and Tharkad, or even Sian. But that should not extend to its people. When we captured Terra, every effort was made to reduce casualties to civilians. But we approach the capital of the Federated Suns with WarShips and troops…

Things are moving too quickly for me. But I trust Kernoff. His wisdom is greater than mine, and his experience with such matters is vast compared to mine. He seemed confident that showing the House Lords the extent of their folly would be enough to get them to reconsider. Then, perhaps, all is not lost, and we can continue along the path.

We will find out. As they say, the die is cast.