Letters from the Crescent Sun

Dear Lauren,

When I first landed in your camp, I had no idea who I would find there. The first time I saw it, I was several thousand feet above you, watching the ground drift past on my room's display screen as the airship flew towards the frontlines. I was countless miles from my home and my family and there was a chance I was never going to see them again. In a way, I imagined that they were down there with you and all of the other families who had been evacuated. I never would have believed that down there was a little girl who would help me the way you did. Now, I know you might think that it was I who helped you and everyone else in the camp but you also gave me hope. The truth is that when I was with you, I saw a part of my daughter in you. You reminded me of everything I fought for and everything I am working for now. I thought I could go home when the war ended months ago but even though the fighting has stopped, people are still fighting for survival. Sadly, you experienced the pain of hunger firsthand. Elsewhere in the country and the world, the situation is worse. Hunger, sickness, hostility and disharmony threaten to damage our world more than it already is. This isn't the world I want my daughter to inherit. I owe it to her, you and all generations who will come after. It is my duty to see through my final mission. I don't know how much of a difference I can make. It may take a very long time for anyone to see any difference or if anything will even change at all but that will not stop me from trying.

Fortunately, I am not alone. I have found a group of crewmates who are committed to the same cause I am. It was them who helped me create the first MUFFIN packages. I barely had to ask them and they were eager to help. Each of them had their reasons. Without them, I don't think I would have been able to pull off the relief operation and high command would still be at a loss over what to do. Our actions with your camp showed them that we can still be of use although the war is over. As I told you, the Crescent Sun and several other airships have been ordered to assist in relief and rebuilding efforts in any way we can. They want to use the resources and assets that ships like ours offer. History will likely remember this but it will almost certainly forget about the people who made it possible. For this reason I have decided to record and document the crew's story and our view of the events. Our words, our actions, our thoughts. I hope to capture as much of it as I can. Although you are young now, I hope this collection of letters and journals will be of use to you in the future so that you can understand how much of a difference a few people can make.

You reminded me that I am not finished. We proved that we could bring those on the edge back from the brink of desperation. The relief missions were not the idea of some all-powerful leader or a room full of geniuses. They were the work of a handful of dedicated men and women who came together to make a difference. Now, we have the resources and support to do so much more. Only time will tell if we are successful but if what happened in your camp is any indication, I know we will be.

I don't know when I'll see you again and I cannot send you these letters until you are moved out of the camp. For now, I will write them and keep them safe until we meet again. Thank you for all that you have done for me. I promise I will make this world a place we can be proud to call home. It is the only gift worthy enough for our future.

Your faithful friend,

Ms. D