Friday, May 22, 2015

Time and Space Organized

“Ready information evacuation!”

Angelita was shaking heavily.

“What the fuck?”

Sins was probably on his way to the escape pod. But I was worried about my recent work.

“Transmit all work to corp mainframe!”

“We have 10 percent armor left. Fuck the research work. Do it yourself. You’re a capsuleer. I am going to my escape pod. I want to live.”

Sigh. The timid and shaking mechanic I recruited several months ago was no longer a pushover. I liked that. But I was still the captain.

“No! You secure the research now, or I will get a contract out on your sorry ass. I will make sure you get to the pod. Do. It. Now!”

I overheated just about everything I had. I had been taking a bait and now I paid the price. I could have escaped earlier, but I was so close to getting the Ishkur. I had decided to get it and then escape. Bad choice.

“Information secured. I am leaving ship.”

A bright flash. Then everything was quiet. And I was in a warp tunnel.

“Sins? You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good to hear your voice, Sins. I’ll get a rescue team to pick you up. Catch an interbus shuttle and meet me back at HQ. And get a new Astero ready.”

I think I heard another of his rapidly increasing amount of sighs on the comms. But it might have been cosmic distortion on the channel.

“Yes, sir.”

2 weeks later. Upper Lip Finesse office somewhere in Placid:

“Your Astero is ready for shipping. And your finance guy tells me to let you know you are running out of ISK with your habit of exploding expensive Asteroes. At this rate you will be broke in a few months.”

Sins sat down in the sofa. The Scope was reporting some news about a Drifter autopsy report in Yulai.

“Bah! Tell him to mind his own busin… Hey, turn that up!”

The broadcast from Yulai was scrambled and the signal lost.

“Wow! Get me linked up to all alternative news channels and give me a report about the status in Yulai. Then fire up the login procedures for the Terran networks Slack and Twitter. I need to get my research published. We need a comprehensive timeline to grasp the magnitude of what is happening now. These Drifters... I wonder...”

Sins sighed and got up from the sofa. 

“I’ll get it for you. By the way, that container with tinfoil you ordered arrived today. It’s in the hangar. To the left. Behind the delivery of books from University of Caille.”

The Monolith in Dead End. I went there just to see it and did not get one single killmail from the trip. Something strange is happening to me.

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