AN: Yeah, gonna call the vote for Going at this point.
Your father smiles over his paperwork as you approach his desk. Said desk is made from the wood of a tree that grows on Thernus. Originating in the icy north, it evolved strong bark to prevent the cold from causing it to explode, which made it able to resists lasgun fire with some reliability. Apparently this would is somewhat similar to oak, an ancient wood from Terra.
The desk itself is somewhat plain, and not what you'd expect for the administrator of an entire star system. Your father is much the same. He's plain-looking, to the point most people who don't know who he is dismiss him. If he hadn't been essentially born for the role, he'd likely have never had the chance to become (by virtue of lack of confidence) System Administrator. As it was, he was an excellent administrator.
"Serras, nice to see you. How have you been?" He asks, looking back down to his papers.
"Pretty good, I broke through some major thresholds in the tactical, metalworking, and creative fields recently." you say. It's been a busy year for you. "Have the reforms to the military General Richards and I worked out been keeping you busy?" you asked. You assumed that was why he'd been so busy lately.
"Yes, but there's been a drop in casualties to big to dismiss as good luck since I started, so I can't complain." He replied.
"Do you want some help? I came up with the policies, so I'm not going to learn anything I didn't already know." You suggest.
"No, no, you've been working hard, and this is my job." He declines, waving you off.
You respond...
[ ] I can take pushing myself like this, you can't.
[ ] Father... someday I'm going to have to take your place, or evaluate your successor, depending on your own choices.
[ ] Alright *Shrug*.
AN: You have until 5 to vote.