Life and Other Nuisances

Recorder on.

In contrast to the previous recording, Mortis no longer looks happy or relaxed. Several personnel files have been brought up, apparently mostly related to a corporation named PRELI. He minimises them, and leans back, massaging his forehead a little.

I swear that if there really is a god, he's either got it in for me or has a really bad sense of humour.

I thought, just for a moment, that things were working out. Apart from the Lethean Guard, I've yet to suffer a combat loss out here in Bleak. My performance, both as a pilot and - increasingly - as a unit commander have proved my worth to the Ghosts. I unburdened myself to Kimochi, and finally feel more relaxed about my condition. And the whole messy business with Talan, Pryce and Rendar seemed to have settled. Bliss.

Yeah. For maybe a day. Reading between the lines and prodding the recording systems in the Ghost public areas... we've got another joyous little emotional mess forming, one involving not one but two commanding officers. Not heard much about it since the initial spat that resulted in both Nephilim Arkenath and Tribune Jenneth leaving contact for a few hours... but I doubt we'll be so lucky as to have it all blown over already. Quite what Kopenhagen thinks he's doing, I have no idea, but he's either incredibly clever or a naive idiot.

He smiles in dark humour.

I'm not sure which is worse.

But that seemed like no big deal. I'm beginning to get the feeling that Twisted was very quiet - after all, the only two women in the corp, Rathnon and Whit, were a raging psycho and a stay-at-home respectively. No such luck here. It's not the girls in PRETA that concern me now, though. Unless any of them have predatory homosexual tendencies that I've yet to unearth.

Because my little sister has turned up out of the blue.

He scowls.

Repentence. I hadn't seen her in the flesh for years, not since I left to join the Academy. Just never had time. I suppose I still think of her as the sixteen-year old that was always in one scrape or another. But on the other hand... she mentioned that she was kicked out of the family and disowned over a party. Wouldn't say what kind, but she mentioned a Minmatar rabble rouser, a police raid... I'm guessing that she was caught in bed with said Minmatar. A more shameful mark on the name of Tyrathlion in the eyes of dear mother I can't imagine. I've considered doing a little more research, maybe pulling some strings with the Imperial Navy, but if I'm right, the only result will be to embarass myself and her. Does it really matter? After all, the number of... relatively innocent men and women that I've killed over the last couple of years is probably nearing six figures.

He falls silent, considering this morbid fact.

Thank god that the first person she met out here was Kimochi. I dread to think what it would have been like if Vaden or Inara had got there first... both of those ex-United folk are excellent pilots and good people, but Reppy is nineteen, nineteen! A nineteen-year old, naive and troublesome slip of a Khanid girl. I wouldn't be surprised if every Cartel slave trader and pimp in the Skyhook was sizing her up. I heard plenty of stories about her wild life back home, but that was different. That was the homeworld, where the worst that could happen was a bad batch of nerve sticks or an overenthusiastic suitor. She could die out here, or worse, and no one would bat an eyelid.

But she was adamant. She wanted to be out here - not out in lowsec, but out with me. Sweet kid... we had some good times back home, before I left, before we all lost some innocence.

Kimochi and some woman named Selkie have sorted out a place for Reppy in the Ghosts' legitimate front organisation. Hopefully that'll work out... because there's nowhere else for her to go. She's not a killer, doesn't have the backbone for piracy. She's a spoiled daughter of the aristocracy at the end of the day. Intelligence and their implants made me change, but she's had nothing like that...

He smiles bitterly.

I suppose that's a silver lining, that I can still care about someone. I'd almost forgotten that I could.

But I tell you... if anyone hurts her... anyone, even the Nephilim herself... I swear they'll get a bullet through the skull before the day is out.

Consequences be damned.

He glowers into space for a moment, and then switches off the camera.

Recorder off.