This is the diary & short stories of Shalee Lianne Cerra, in the fictitious universe, New Eden, in the game of Eve Online. Come be a part of her world...

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Entry 144: The Quest

She swayed her hand in front of the holographic console, activating it. The holoform of a brown-robbed Amarrian monk appeared, his fingers steepled.

"Greetings Commodore Lianne, how may I help you?"

Shalee nodded her head to the data guide reflexively, then laughed at herself. "I always forget you aren't real." She settled back in her chair. "I need information on the Amity Project."

"Searching." The wall-sized screen behind the monk shimmered as streams of text processed, flashing in neon green lettering. A myriad of pictures flashed behind the text, faces and places and a thousand other things that could be linked to Amity Project loaded, waiting to be viewed.

"Shall I connect you to their info-portal?" Layered above the text and links, a black circular logo appeared with a gold AP entertwined in the center. The image of the portal pulsed, the watery logo appearing in the form of a wormhole.

Shalee nodded. "Activate, please."

The screen around the logo faded to black as the portal spread. Above the logo a number appeared. 796,243,965.

"What does the number mean?"

The monk replied, "It is the number of slaves helped by the organization."

"Huh." She furrowed her brows, "That's a rather bold statement, especially a public one. So that's how many slaves they have freed?"

The monk's face remained passive as he paused, absorbing data. "Helped, not freed, implying that they are not operating outside of the law, even in Empire space."

"Ah. Clever. What is their mission statement?"

"The Amity Project's mission statement is 'to educate and empower former slaves and other misfortunates, while advocating on the behalf of those who cannot fight for their own freedom."

"How are they funded?" she asked.

"The Amity Project is a privately funded organization."

"Can you dig deeper?"

"Access denied," he replied.

"Search for Kyrie Lo'Sava."

"Access denied."

"Molok's balls," she sweared. "Terminate portal." She threaded her fingers through her long hair, "Connect with ...." she searched through her cards, finding the one Kathetel had given her weeks ago. She read off the number. The holoscreen lit immediately with the Imperial Agent's face.

"Took you long enough."

"I've been busy."

He swayed his hand, "Yeah yeah, war and all that. So, what do I owe the pleasure of this communication?"

"I want to know about the Amity Project."

He chuckled, "Ah, them." He leaned back in his chair and lit a cigar, taking his time to respond. "Just a ragtag bunch of do-gooders for the most part. Some are on the extremist side. Why?"

She said nothing.

"Ah ha. You've been unraveling. You've found out your involvement with them, I presume?"

She nodded. "It doesn't make sense."

He exhaled a ring of smoke, "I suppose not. Not from where you're sitting, anyhow."

"I don't see how I can be both an agent of the Empire and part of the Project too." She hesitated, "Was I some kind of double agent?"

"In a manner of speaking, I suppose you could call it that."

"Great," she muttered sarcastically.

He peered at her questionally as he puffed on his cigar. "Sounds like you need a fieldtrip. Theres a place you need to see, it will explain a lot." Her neocomm flashed with an incoming message, "I just sent you coordinates. Meet me there in one hour and I'll answer any question you have." He closed the connection, smirking.

She glanced down at the coordinates. "A pleasure hub in Gallente space? Oh boy."

1 comment:

  1. Ironic if we risked a True Death just for your cover identity, Commodore!