Assistant Cooks log.

Star date: 121920.10

We've entered into the monsoon season of winter months here at our base camp. The days have been getting drastically shorter and drastically slower. The troops, however, are holding it together boldly.

These last few days we've seen many a bold and noble troops leave the base camp for outer societies. Our numbers wavered greatly the day most left, at midday it was just the Commander and Chief, Captain Handal and I holding down the fort. That day we lost half the servicemen and women. However by the next day we had gained the same number back in temporary troops.

It's been interesting meeting so many of those passing through. There is a group of three going out to the outer country of Guatemala via a bo-bo bus. Their voyage will start before the rains stop, they leave tomorrow.

The others passing through our humble base camp are the family members of the great Maintenance Director, Lieutenant Commander Gabel. They are gracing us with their stories of the early years of the Lieutenant Commander.

The monsoons. They have been going on for days, and days, and days. The rain started well before our esteemed members left our sides. Now the rains refuse to freeze into snow and they keep inviting themselves over for dinner. The rivers are swelling, the roads are filling and the mountains are falling.

I find it hard to enter my living quarters as the natural path in has been filled with rain. Even the tracks left by the strange, little train are filled with rains from the sky.

Soon if things don't change I will need to find reinforcement, a boat, a bigger umbrella and a pair of waders.