2010-09-01, 18:43
“You sure he has it?”
“Yes. He is delivering as promised. Those Angel Guardians have been very helpful.”
--- * ---
Morgan sat comfortably on his seat, enjoying what little station-side time he had prior to sleeping. His days were spent doing raids at marked facilities, for the sake of his wallet and his alliance. The coordinates had been handed over by unknown hands, at least from his superiors, and he kept them close to heart.
His wife was tending to her usual duties, perhaps enjoying what modicum of serenity they enjoyed whenever he wasn’t doing his “thing”, or she was busy hauling his supplies back to Jita.
--- * ---
“I wonder where the operative gets these things. You noticed his ship modifications? He’s becoming increasingly pro-active.”
“As long as it goes along with schedule, I don’t care. He hasn’t given us anything worth our time either.”
“I wouldn’t say that. And he has to keep face, you know?”
---*---
His implants were twitching now, his own mind desirous to experiment his newest addition to his arsenal. He could feel them rearing and humming within his mind, as he plugged into the Cruor-class frigate. In an instant, he could feel the hull’s watery texture, its weapon systems eager to drain the life of its target.
His wife had protested, of course, but he had paid little heed to her words. He was interested, as were some of his old connections, on how ships like these were so prone to beating Caldari-State designs by a long-arm. The Cruor’s hull felt wet for a good reason. It was marred in blood, and he enjoyed the feeling that it came with.
---*---
“I’ve told you, this isn’t good for you. We both fly ships, we both know how addictive they are once you get into the pod, especially once all’s running smoothly. Bu you can’t do that Morgan, no matter what. Especially here in the Republic. And certainly not in Caldari Prime.”
“Who’ll care? Or even notice? As long as I keep’em happy with information and support, they don’t care if I fly this or that. Leave me alone now.”
“Fine.”
---*---
Johan was a technician within Boundless, a skilled technician working there for three years now. He had a wife, and a thriving family. He took care of the Wild Bunch’s equipment while they were on station, and reported to more than just his employers. He was a good man, and he had no real addictions, but even then, he had adquired some debts over the years. Now, his employers wanted that debt paid. His tasks were simple, at first, mere data acquisition.
They slowly evolved into acquiring more than data, and occasional replace a particular instrument with another similar, to allow research and progress to be made at the expense of these capsuleers. Why would they care, he’d consider, they blow up ships more often than not.
---*---
“That will get us in trouble. It was completely unexpected and I did not want this turn of events.”
“How will we cover it up? Even his family got wind of it, and those damned Minmatar are bothering the authorities. Simple money didn’t do it this time.”
---*---
A package arrived at Jita 4 -4, the center of commerce for the Caldari and in general, most of the Capsuleers. Inside the large package came the data pertaining the murder case, coupled with a multi-million worth prototype afterburner. The signature was recognizable, but the paper trail ended there. Now, all that was amiss was to produce the technology to replicate this in a large scale.
Ishukone’s Operative smile, as he unveiled the item, and picked up his datapad, relaying information for the Mega-Corporation’s shuttle to deliver this to its final destination.
“Yes. He is delivering as promised. Those Angel Guardians have been very helpful.”
--- * ---
Morgan sat comfortably on his seat, enjoying what little station-side time he had prior to sleeping. His days were spent doing raids at marked facilities, for the sake of his wallet and his alliance. The coordinates had been handed over by unknown hands, at least from his superiors, and he kept them close to heart.
His wife was tending to her usual duties, perhaps enjoying what modicum of serenity they enjoyed whenever he wasn’t doing his “thing”, or she was busy hauling his supplies back to Jita.
--- * ---
“I wonder where the operative gets these things. You noticed his ship modifications? He’s becoming increasingly pro-active.”
“As long as it goes along with schedule, I don’t care. He hasn’t given us anything worth our time either.”
“I wouldn’t say that. And he has to keep face, you know?”
---*---
His implants were twitching now, his own mind desirous to experiment his newest addition to his arsenal. He could feel them rearing and humming within his mind, as he plugged into the Cruor-class frigate. In an instant, he could feel the hull’s watery texture, its weapon systems eager to drain the life of its target.
His wife had protested, of course, but he had paid little heed to her words. He was interested, as were some of his old connections, on how ships like these were so prone to beating Caldari-State designs by a long-arm. The Cruor’s hull felt wet for a good reason. It was marred in blood, and he enjoyed the feeling that it came with.
---*---
“I’ve told you, this isn’t good for you. We both fly ships, we both know how addictive they are once you get into the pod, especially once all’s running smoothly. Bu you can’t do that Morgan, no matter what. Especially here in the Republic. And certainly not in Caldari Prime.”
“Who’ll care? Or even notice? As long as I keep’em happy with information and support, they don’t care if I fly this or that. Leave me alone now.”
“Fine.”
---*---
Johan was a technician within Boundless, a skilled technician working there for three years now. He had a wife, and a thriving family. He took care of the Wild Bunch’s equipment while they were on station, and reported to more than just his employers. He was a good man, and he had no real addictions, but even then, he had adquired some debts over the years. Now, his employers wanted that debt paid. His tasks were simple, at first, mere data acquisition.
They slowly evolved into acquiring more than data, and occasional replace a particular instrument with another similar, to allow research and progress to be made at the expense of these capsuleers. Why would they care, he’d consider, they blow up ships more often than not.
---*---
“That will get us in trouble. It was completely unexpected and I did not want this turn of events.”
“How will we cover it up? Even his family got wind of it, and those damned Minmatar are bothering the authorities. Simple money didn’t do it this time.”
---*---
A package arrived at Jita 4 -4, the center of commerce for the Caldari and in general, most of the Capsuleers. Inside the large package came the data pertaining the murder case, coupled with a multi-million worth prototype afterburner. The signature was recognizable, but the paper trail ended there. Now, all that was amiss was to produce the technology to replicate this in a large scale.
Ishukone’s Operative smile, as he unveiled the item, and picked up his datapad, relaying information for the Mega-Corporation’s shuttle to deliver this to its final destination.