Reaver

I trust everyone is resting well. And by 'everyone' I mean 'most,' of course, as that last port seems to have done a number on a great many of you. You have my well-wishes and my sympathies...such as they are. [Meaning he won't come see any of you because he doesn't want to get sick all over him in even a metaphorical sense, but he acknowledges that you lot are deathtolling and/or injured.] As of this morning, I myself have had a sitdown with our beloved Admiral to discuss a few important  matters, chief of which was my graduation.

Yes, you heard that correctly, duckies. Today you find me not necessarily a reformed man, but perhaps one better-suited to slightly more benevolent tasks. No longer an Inmate, but -- can one begin to believe it? -- a Warden in his own right, charged with the arduous task of steering some wayward soul toward his or her very own happy ending. How delightful.

Why, you may ask? Because why not? says I.

Drinks are on the house tonight -- as they often are -- in celebration of this momentous occasion. In the meantime, I have some redecorating to do.