Dear Valhiri,
I don't even know if you will remember me, we only met the once and under bizarre circumstances. I was a part of the rescue effort when you were freed at the slave auction several months ago.
I played the part of the Amarrian Slave holder who purchased you, I took you aboard my ship while we waited for the others to be rescued.
I have thought of you often since your rescue and wondered how you have been. I hope you are well.
I really don't know what else to say here...just wondering about you.
Sincerely,
Shalee Lianne
***
Avari Slave Market, Spring, 112
Sweat trickled down her face as she pulled off the ornate gold and silver headpiece. Heat flushed her cheeks and her heart was racing.
Once inside the transporter, several crew members swarmed her for orders. She'd just purchased several hundred slaves from the Avair market in a ruse to distract the slavers so that the rest of the rescue team could make their move.
Though she was no stranger to the underground world of slave rescue ops, this was the first time she'd worked with many of them. Some faces were familiar like Ashar KorAzor and Esna Pitoojee. She knew and trusted them. The others, not so much. Though she'd heard of people like Jakiin, CJ Walker, and Ember Vykos, she was a bit apprehensive to be working with them, to allowing her identity to be known as someone who actively fought against slavery.
It was one thing to say in the Empire that you owned no slaves, it was a far different thing to be accused of helping free them.
Shalee gave orders to her crew, sending off various slaves into different quarters. Once they were settled in, she gave the go-ahead for take off. She was far more comfortable in orbit than she would be so close to the market.
All but one slave was sent to quarters. Another, Valhiri Akell, would be brought into the captain's quarters.
Blue eyes focused on the rescued girl. She smiled as she motioned for Valhiri to follow her. Though she'd never met her, she had a good idea she was drugged.
"You are my new mistress. I love you, can I rub your feet?"
Shalee frowned, knowing the girl would regret saying any of this later. She couldn't help but to feel sorry for her. "All I want you to do is sit there, okay? We will have you out of here soon, back where you belong."
Valhiri Akell smiled, her eyes glazed over, "I belong to you, now."
Shalee furrowed her brows. "You belong to no one." She pulled up a holo-display, watching the slave auction with interest, debating on going back inside to purchase more.
Valhiri sat placidly as ordered. "Shall I fetch you some water? Or something else? Please tell me what you'd like?"
Shalee trailed her hand through her hair, "No, nothing, thank you." She pulled off the oppressively hot robe and tossed it over the back of a chair. Beneath it she wore long white pants tucked into boots, with a thin white shirt.
"You're very pretty, miss. I'm glad you bought me. I'll do my best to make you happy."
Shalee bit on her bottom lip in thought, watching the holo. She flicked her gaze over to Val, "How long have you been captured?"
Val frowned in thought. "A while. I'm not sure. I was scared, at first, but now I know there's nothing to be afraid of."
"I am Shalee, by the way. We haven't been introduced properly. And I am not your owner. There are some of us here who have come to rescue you and as many of the others as we can."
The drugged girl smiled again, "That's a nice word. 'Rescue'. You're a nice person, miss, I can tell."
Shalee smiled warmly in return. "You seem nice too. And cared for. This is a big operation to rescue one person. A lot of people are at risk."
"Oh. I hope no-one gets hurt."
"Everyone seems more than capable."
Valhiri hesitated, "I thought I saw Amieta, before ... is she here?"
"Yes, she is."
"I like Amieta. She's a good friend. I'm not supposed to be friends with my patients, but I am with Amieta."
"Oh, that's right, you're in medicine?" Shalee asked.
"I'm a shrink. I shrink people's heads." Val giggled.
"That's what people say."
Shalee laughed as well. "Oh. Well I like mine the size that it is, so hands off."
Gunfire erupted in the market, the sound echoing though the live feed. Shalee frowned deeply, tensing, as she watched, worried for those who were still on the ground, fighting it out.
"Would you like me to massage your back, miss?" Val asked, noticing Shalee tensing up.
She shook her head, "No thank you." She listened for a moment, knowing that it was almost over. The cacophony of screams, bullet fire, and general chaos flooding through the comms overwhelmed her. She quickly turned it off and started to pace the cabin anxiously. "I'm sure they will let us know soon...I can't bear to hear anymore of it."
Valhiri looked sympathetic, "Would you like me to distract you? I could sing to you, if you'd like?"
"No no, Valhiri. You mustn't do anything at all for me. I don't own you, it was all a ruse, okay? You're not a slave. Perhaps in time, we could become friends."
"I'd like that. I like being friends with people."
"And take with you the knowledge that not all Amarrians are the same. That not everyone believes in slavery, and that there are some out there who are fighting against it." Shalee looked at her, hoping she would remember, knowing the votixin was likely going to fuzz her memories of the whole thing.
"I used to hate the Amarrians. But now I know that all people are kin, really. We need to love each other." Val said.
"Hate the institution of slavery, even if some Holders do it for the 'right' reasons. Or at least they think they do. But not everyone buys into that dogma or practices such faith any longer. Things are changing in the Empire, slowly but surely."
Before either of them could say anything else, sirens erupted throughout the ship as five hostiles warped in, followed by seven ministry ships. Explosions lit the sky outside the view port as the battle now engulfed them.
"Pardon my Gallente here, but I think it's time we get the fuck out of here...." The ship rattled as another explosion slung debris at the transporter.
She commed the ground crew, "Uh hey...unexpected change of plans, we've a fleet battle going on around us up here..." The power flickered inside the cabin.
Anxiety coursed through her, "We should be in warp now....oh my god why are we not in warp?" She fell to her feet as the ship trembled again.
"Esna!" she commed frantically.
"Shalee, I'm heading to the docking bay at the station. I'll be inbound on the Firefight momentarily."
Her voice took on a higher pitched tone, "I don't know that we have a moment!" Another explosion lit the sky as the cabin went dark.
"Oh god, we are out of cap..." It was the worst feeling in the world, to be a passenger while someone else captained the ship you were flying aboard.
Her gaze met Vals and she tried to appear calm despite the growing fear that any second would be their last.
"Undocking. Shalee, I'm aligning to warp, slaving my navicomputer to your location. Estimate three-zero seconds to arrival."
Over the comms, prayers were being muttered. Shalee offered one up as well, bracing herself for the moment of impact.
Suddenly Esna appeared next to Shalee's transport, the colossal bulk of the Archon-class carrier dwarfing the drop ship. Streams of armor repairing nanites shot out to friendly ships, while a wave of ECM drones hurtled toward what remained of the hostile fleet.
The transporter finally lurched into warp.
The following day a blurb flashed across the streaming feed of galactic news. "Accidental fire erupts in Avair Slave Market. Thousands presumed dead."
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Entry 118: Blood and Stars
A bright explosion engulfed the Otelen star gate in Houla seconds after she jumped her Harbinger into system.
Foolish, foolish girl.
She hadn't checked intel. She hadn't asked for a scout.
It was almost automatic, running the pipe from Amarr to Huola. All systems save for one, the final destination, high security. Safe, usually.
Her thoughts were distracted and she simply hadn't paid attention until it was too late.
Bahamut flashed on her overview as she realized six other hostiles were in system.
Fucking lovely.
Holding her cloak, her body tensed as she assessed the situation. No friendlies in system either. Of course, that'd be her luck. She'd passed on a patrol with some of her guys so she could move some things down to the front. No doubt they were several jumps out.
Seconds ticked away as she held cloak, waiting for her chance to burn back to the gate. It would be most likely impossible since she had a fair distance to cover, no microwarpdrive, and two other reds showing on short range d-scan. Fuck.
Inside the corridors of her unnamed ship, crew members were rushing to the escape pods as the klaxons roared and the lights dimmed. Engines were failing as her cap was being drained.
She offered up a silent prayer, hoping that at least some of them made it out before the final explosion.
Hopeless. That's what I should have named you, old girl, she muttered to herself as Triplesol's missiles tore into the hull, ripping it to shreds, delivering the final blow.
Her senses dulled for a nano second as she disconnected from the harbinger. In that moment, a thousand images flashed through her mind at once, a collage of what was happening from a hundred different perspectives. Awareness from each fighter drone deployed, from every camera lens aboard her ship, and the ones mounted from the outside all gelled together, manifesting in a fluid, linear memory of the event.
"Warp, warp, warp!" she yelled a steady cadence, hoping that her pod would maneuver through the sea of scrap metal, rolling smoke, and debris.
Blood splashed across the camera lens as she started to warp through a sludge of floating bodies, unfortunate crew members who hadn't made it to the escape pods.
"I'm sorry..." she whispered, feeling a tightness in the pit of her stomach.
Later, inside her hangar in the 24th station of Huola, she reviewed the recorded footage of what had happened. Mostly a small gang of Ice Fire Warriors, including LP McDuffs and Rothgr Bronn with a few others she vaguely recognized had taken her down with ease.
"Goddammit," she uttered as she killed the video, sitting in the dim light, absently biting on her dog tags.
She tried not to think of the countless crew members that had been lost out of her sheer negligence.
Her reverie was interrupted by light flashing inside the room as an explosion lit up the hazy blue sky outside the station. Her gaze drifted to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall in time to see the scattered remains of a frigate drifting just before it was salvaged.
"Dumb bastard," she rolled her eyes. No doubt Heretic's Army sniper pilot, Lukka, was on the hunt again. When he'd first arrived on the scene weeks ago, she'd spent a fair amount of time trying to catch him. When that failed, she'd resorted to camping her own station to keep him from harming other pilots who naively thought they were safe in a frigate or pod.
Others had joined her from time to time in 'guarding the station', but after so long she'd given up and spent her time back on the war front, hoping that the 24th would have learned by now.
Obviously not.
Her crew chief commed her, "Lukka's on the prowl again. I'd suggest delaying your trip to Amarr."
"Yeah, okay," she answered as she paced over to the glass, "I'll make a run early morning, hopefully things will be settled down by then."
"The war goes live in less than twenty hours, just as long as you do it before then."
"Yup, understood." She flicked the comm off as she leaned against the glass, watching the sky as a handful of battlecruisers landed within the station's docking range, one of them Zverofaust.
Her nose wrinkled as a look of distaste etched her delicate face.
Zverofaust. The bane of the Amarr Militia. A former Minmatar freedom fighter, the turncoat had switched sides no doubt to spread discord among the Amarrians. Within months of his joining LOCUS, he had managed to convince them to wardec at least six loyalist corps.
The Knighthood's turn had come, of course.
She was certain it was because of her.
At first he had tried to be charming though she never really trusted him. Once she'd learned of his true nature, his declarations of love and adoration turned to public scorn in an attempt to humiliate her.
He would stop at nothing, say anything just for her attention in any way he could get it.
His love-hate obsession for her was disturbing. He would deliberately try to provoke her or anyone who was remotely close with her.
She'd encountered strange pilots before but he had to be one of the worst. As disgusting as Torus Nunn from the 8th order was, who claimed to rape her corpse, she'd rather be locked in a room with him for a week than spend one minute alone with Zvero.
She shuddered.
Weeks ago, she accidentally discovered his non de plume, FW Reporter, a name he wrote under for the FW Report, a supposedly 'independent media site for all things Faction Warfare'.
"Independent, my ass." she muttered to herself.
Once he found out she knew, he tried to bully her into leaving her beloved militia. She refused and he threatened her, telling her she'd 'suffer the consequences'.
Less than two weeks later the Knighthood was declared war upon by LOCUS.
A civil war ensued.
Foolish, foolish girl.
She hadn't checked intel. She hadn't asked for a scout.
It was almost automatic, running the pipe from Amarr to Huola. All systems save for one, the final destination, high security. Safe, usually.
Her thoughts were distracted and she simply hadn't paid attention until it was too late.
Bahamut flashed on her overview as she realized six other hostiles were in system.
Fucking lovely.
Holding her cloak, her body tensed as she assessed the situation. No friendlies in system either. Of course, that'd be her luck. She'd passed on a patrol with some of her guys so she could move some things down to the front. No doubt they were several jumps out.
Seconds ticked away as she held cloak, waiting for her chance to burn back to the gate. It would be most likely impossible since she had a fair distance to cover, no microwarpdrive, and two other reds showing on short range d-scan. Fuck.
Inside the corridors of her unnamed ship, crew members were rushing to the escape pods as the klaxons roared and the lights dimmed. Engines were failing as her cap was being drained.
She offered up a silent prayer, hoping that at least some of them made it out before the final explosion.
Hopeless. That's what I should have named you, old girl, she muttered to herself as Triplesol's missiles tore into the hull, ripping it to shreds, delivering the final blow.
Her senses dulled for a nano second as she disconnected from the harbinger. In that moment, a thousand images flashed through her mind at once, a collage of what was happening from a hundred different perspectives. Awareness from each fighter drone deployed, from every camera lens aboard her ship, and the ones mounted from the outside all gelled together, manifesting in a fluid, linear memory of the event.
"Warp, warp, warp!" she yelled a steady cadence, hoping that her pod would maneuver through the sea of scrap metal, rolling smoke, and debris.
Blood splashed across the camera lens as she started to warp through a sludge of floating bodies, unfortunate crew members who hadn't made it to the escape pods.
"I'm sorry..." she whispered, feeling a tightness in the pit of her stomach.
Later, inside her hangar in the 24th station of Huola, she reviewed the recorded footage of what had happened. Mostly a small gang of Ice Fire Warriors, including LP McDuffs and Rothgr Bronn with a few others she vaguely recognized had taken her down with ease.
"Goddammit," she uttered as she killed the video, sitting in the dim light, absently biting on her dog tags.
She tried not to think of the countless crew members that had been lost out of her sheer negligence.
Her reverie was interrupted by light flashing inside the room as an explosion lit up the hazy blue sky outside the station. Her gaze drifted to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall in time to see the scattered remains of a frigate drifting just before it was salvaged.
"Dumb bastard," she rolled her eyes. No doubt Heretic's Army sniper pilot, Lukka, was on the hunt again. When he'd first arrived on the scene weeks ago, she'd spent a fair amount of time trying to catch him. When that failed, she'd resorted to camping her own station to keep him from harming other pilots who naively thought they were safe in a frigate or pod.
Others had joined her from time to time in 'guarding the station', but after so long she'd given up and spent her time back on the war front, hoping that the 24th would have learned by now.
Obviously not.
Her crew chief commed her, "Lukka's on the prowl again. I'd suggest delaying your trip to Amarr."
"Yeah, okay," she answered as she paced over to the glass, "I'll make a run early morning, hopefully things will be settled down by then."
"The war goes live in less than twenty hours, just as long as you do it before then."
"Yup, understood." She flicked the comm off as she leaned against the glass, watching the sky as a handful of battlecruisers landed within the station's docking range, one of them Zverofaust.
Her nose wrinkled as a look of distaste etched her delicate face.
Zverofaust. The bane of the Amarr Militia. A former Minmatar freedom fighter, the turncoat had switched sides no doubt to spread discord among the Amarrians. Within months of his joining LOCUS, he had managed to convince them to wardec at least six loyalist corps.
The Knighthood's turn had come, of course.
She was certain it was because of her.
At first he had tried to be charming though she never really trusted him. Once she'd learned of his true nature, his declarations of love and adoration turned to public scorn in an attempt to humiliate her.
He would stop at nothing, say anything just for her attention in any way he could get it.
His love-hate obsession for her was disturbing. He would deliberately try to provoke her or anyone who was remotely close with her.
She'd encountered strange pilots before but he had to be one of the worst. As disgusting as Torus Nunn from the 8th order was, who claimed to rape her corpse, she'd rather be locked in a room with him for a week than spend one minute alone with Zvero.
She shuddered.
Weeks ago, she accidentally discovered his non de plume, FW Reporter, a name he wrote under for the FW Report, a supposedly 'independent media site for all things Faction Warfare'.
"Independent, my ass." she muttered to herself.
Once he found out she knew, he tried to bully her into leaving her beloved militia. She refused and he threatened her, telling her she'd 'suffer the consequences'.
Less than two weeks later the Knighthood was declared war upon by LOCUS.
A civil war ensued.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Entry 117: God's Will
She walked along the catwalk of her hangar in Kourmonen, watching as her crew readied her newest Abaddoned class battleship, the Beautiful Dangerous.
Already tuned in to the militia and various other intel channels, she listened as the Amarr started to rally to engage a roaming fleet of Minmatar.
Half of the fleet was several systems away and others were refitting their vessels, so she took her time getting into pod. She stretched languidly, rubbing the back of her neck as she paced along the metal grating, heading towards the pod station.
A holodrone activated with an incoming transmission. She accepted as she leaned against the railing, her blue gaze scanning across the hologram of an Amarrian.
"Greetings and Salutations Former Praetorian." He smiled.
"Greetings." She looked at him curiously, trying to place the face or voice. He knew that she'd been a praetorian, but that wasn't exactly a secret. Any pod pilot could access her public file.
"Do you have a few moments to speak, or do other matters require your attention?" He asked.
"I can speak," she replied as she checked his public file.
"Allow me to take a moment to introduce myself. My name is Milan Skrlec." He rolled his r's.
"A pleasure. Shalee Lianne." But obviously you already know that.
"No rank or title Ms. Lianne?"
"Commodore."
"Ja. Commodore. I knew you would go far, I just always thought it'd be with PIE. However, I am glad that your path has been ordained to travel contrary to my expectations."
"You know of me because...?"
"Because I mentored you in PIE. Before I went underground with the Jovians... and before they stuck me in this... new body." He smiled.
"Michael?!" Her face lit up as she started towards him, as if to hug him. She stopped short, dropping her arms to her side.
"In the flesh... so to speak."
"Oh god, it's been so long. How are you?"
"Quite well. Given that I'm someone else now. I hear that my old body was sold off to someone and they're spending a wonderful amount of time in low sec mining the hell out of veldspar. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to afford a brain with better skills... so I get to start my career and life from scratch."
"Mining? How dull."
"A body wired for combat and he decides to prance about asteroids."
She continued to grin, "I am so happy to hear from you! I've thought about you often."
"Have you really?" He blushed. "I have to admit the same."
"I have, of course. I can't believe this...I thought you were dead."
"So did I. I've learned alot about faith.... about death. About many things. But surely that's rather dull. I'm going to guess that you left PIE because of Faith. And since we can't die that's also a pointless topic. I actually contacted you for several reasons."
"Tell me."
"One. I know you. You're safe and I can speak with you about anything. Two: You have a bounty on your head. Three: I and another wish to join you in having bounties on our heads as well." He smiled again.
"Ours?" she questioned.
"A friend, he just graduated the Academy today. His name is Monamarth."
"You're coming back to the warfront?" she asked, pleased by the thought of having him near once again.
"Depends on which war we're fighting. Amarr and Minnies?"
"But of course."
"I hear that you're a very influential person in your Corporation. I don't want to muddy your dress so to speak." he said.
"I don't know what you know of us, really. We are small. But yes. A Director. It's just Aldrith Shutaq and I who run things."
"Aldrith!? That old rat!" He laughed, "Wonderful news! It's just the two of you?"
"That run things, yes."
"Will you admit those who are not Amarr?"
She nodded, "Yes, of course."
"I graduated the university two days ago, he just today. Our skills are nowhere near what's needed for the fight."
"That doesn't matter. We would love to have you."
"I would be honoured to join again."
"How exciting. This is such wonderful news. Just send in an application, have your friend do the same."
"Where are your offices?"
"Huola, and Amarr. Though these new pod interfaces allow you to join from anywhere."
"I admit, I don't recall many things. I remember teaching classes to new recruits the basics of space combat... but I don't recall the material. I can't remember much of the interfaces, much of fighting in space.... I've been away too long."
"Then it is I who will be your mentor. Fitting, I think."
"Agreed."
"I'm going to speak with my friend and make sure that this fits in with our long term plans."
"You know. I remember those days, coming out of the Academy. It was daunting." she said.
"Especially more-so now. There's much more to take in all at once." he agreed.
"Let him know I will be sympathetic to that and will work with him personaly if he should like."
Milan seemed distracted for a moment, "I see that your dossier has become rather interesting. You're friends with Verone?"
"Yes...I am friends with him." She frowned suddenly, "Or something like that. It's complicated. Anyhow I have to cut this short, I'm needed out on the front. I would very much love to see you, do come to Mercy's Keep on Amarr, we will catch up soon."
She killed the connection as she headed inside the medical lab to be readied for her pod. Jonathon, her chief pod technician, gave her a curious look.
"Something bothering you Commodore?"
She shook her head, "Not really... just an omnious feeling." She threaded her fingers through her hair, taking a calming breath. "I need to shake this off, I can't go into battle feeling like this. Too many lives are at stake."
He gave her a reassuring smile as he started to connect her to her pod, "God's will be done."
She nodded as she felt the ambiotic fluid filling her pod. Her senses heightened, awareness tingling throughout her body as she became suspended in liquid, her consciousness melding with the electronics of the ship.
Over comms, Eran had given the order to undock.
The abaddon eased into the darkness of space.
Twenty minutes later an explosion lit the Auga stargate as the battleship was ripped into a thousand pieces. Six thousand crew members dead.
God's will be done.
Already tuned in to the militia and various other intel channels, she listened as the Amarr started to rally to engage a roaming fleet of Minmatar.
Half of the fleet was several systems away and others were refitting their vessels, so she took her time getting into pod. She stretched languidly, rubbing the back of her neck as she paced along the metal grating, heading towards the pod station.
A holodrone activated with an incoming transmission. She accepted as she leaned against the railing, her blue gaze scanning across the hologram of an Amarrian.
"Greetings and Salutations Former Praetorian." He smiled.
"Greetings." She looked at him curiously, trying to place the face or voice. He knew that she'd been a praetorian, but that wasn't exactly a secret. Any pod pilot could access her public file.
"Do you have a few moments to speak, or do other matters require your attention?" He asked.
"I can speak," she replied as she checked his public file.
"Allow me to take a moment to introduce myself. My name is Milan Skrlec." He rolled his r's.
"A pleasure. Shalee Lianne." But obviously you already know that.
"No rank or title Ms. Lianne?"
"Commodore."
"Ja. Commodore. I knew you would go far, I just always thought it'd be with PIE. However, I am glad that your path has been ordained to travel contrary to my expectations."
"You know of me because...?"
"Because I mentored you in PIE. Before I went underground with the Jovians... and before they stuck me in this... new body." He smiled.
"Michael?!" Her face lit up as she started towards him, as if to hug him. She stopped short, dropping her arms to her side.
"In the flesh... so to speak."
"Oh god, it's been so long. How are you?"
"Quite well. Given that I'm someone else now. I hear that my old body was sold off to someone and they're spending a wonderful amount of time in low sec mining the hell out of veldspar. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to afford a brain with better skills... so I get to start my career and life from scratch."
"Mining? How dull."
"A body wired for combat and he decides to prance about asteroids."
She continued to grin, "I am so happy to hear from you! I've thought about you often."
"Have you really?" He blushed. "I have to admit the same."
"I have, of course. I can't believe this...I thought you were dead."
"So did I. I've learned alot about faith.... about death. About many things. But surely that's rather dull. I'm going to guess that you left PIE because of Faith. And since we can't die that's also a pointless topic. I actually contacted you for several reasons."
"Tell me."
"One. I know you. You're safe and I can speak with you about anything. Two: You have a bounty on your head. Three: I and another wish to join you in having bounties on our heads as well." He smiled again.
"Ours?" she questioned.
"A friend, he just graduated the Academy today. His name is Monamarth."
"You're coming back to the warfront?" she asked, pleased by the thought of having him near once again.
"Depends on which war we're fighting. Amarr and Minnies?"
"But of course."
"I hear that you're a very influential person in your Corporation. I don't want to muddy your dress so to speak." he said.
"I don't know what you know of us, really. We are small. But yes. A Director. It's just Aldrith Shutaq and I who run things."
"Aldrith!? That old rat!" He laughed, "Wonderful news! It's just the two of you?"
"That run things, yes."
"Will you admit those who are not Amarr?"
She nodded, "Yes, of course."
"I graduated the university two days ago, he just today. Our skills are nowhere near what's needed for the fight."
"That doesn't matter. We would love to have you."
"I would be honoured to join again."
"How exciting. This is such wonderful news. Just send in an application, have your friend do the same."
"Where are your offices?"
"Huola, and Amarr. Though these new pod interfaces allow you to join from anywhere."
"I admit, I don't recall many things. I remember teaching classes to new recruits the basics of space combat... but I don't recall the material. I can't remember much of the interfaces, much of fighting in space.... I've been away too long."
"Then it is I who will be your mentor. Fitting, I think."
"Agreed."
"I'm going to speak with my friend and make sure that this fits in with our long term plans."
"You know. I remember those days, coming out of the Academy. It was daunting." she said.
"Especially more-so now. There's much more to take in all at once." he agreed.
"Let him know I will be sympathetic to that and will work with him personaly if he should like."
Milan seemed distracted for a moment, "I see that your dossier has become rather interesting. You're friends with Verone?"
"Yes...I am friends with him." She frowned suddenly, "Or something like that. It's complicated. Anyhow I have to cut this short, I'm needed out on the front. I would very much love to see you, do come to Mercy's Keep on Amarr, we will catch up soon."
She killed the connection as she headed inside the medical lab to be readied for her pod. Jonathon, her chief pod technician, gave her a curious look.
"Something bothering you Commodore?"
She shook her head, "Not really... just an omnious feeling." She threaded her fingers through her hair, taking a calming breath. "I need to shake this off, I can't go into battle feeling like this. Too many lives are at stake."
He gave her a reassuring smile as he started to connect her to her pod, "God's will be done."
She nodded as she felt the ambiotic fluid filling her pod. Her senses heightened, awareness tingling throughout her body as she became suspended in liquid, her consciousness melding with the electronics of the ship.
Over comms, Eran had given the order to undock.
The abaddon eased into the darkness of space.
Twenty minutes later an explosion lit the Auga stargate as the battleship was ripped into a thousand pieces. Six thousand crew members dead.
God's will be done.
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