Acting on intelligence

If undescript could have a mascot, the Prorator would be it. Barely different from its hull base, the pervasive Sigil-class cargo hauler, the Prorator could be - and was - often mistaken for is simpler cousin. But to Esna Pitoojee, as his Prorator slid into the dock, it was the greatest thing since the Bestower hull. Specifically, it allowed him to pull his first trick off.



Esna stepped you of the changing areas, drying his hair of the last of the water from the capsuleer showers. As he stepped out onto the floor of the hangar, he was met by an older True Amarr bearing a huge smile.

"Lord Pitoojee, I did not expect to see you again so soon! Although it is certainly to see you back again, God bless you."

Esna grinned back. "Amatos. Good to see you again as well, friend."

Benashut Amatos, the foreman for that docking bay, nodded as he pumped Esna's hand enthusiastically. "Though, you current choice of transport is a little underwhelming? Not as great as the Archon you had built here, Sir."

Esna grimaces, as if remembering something, then grins. "The Archon is... elsewhere. Still instact, mind you, and still bearing the graffiti someone sprayed on the third engine housing. But I'm not here to relax, and this ship has its uses to. For instance..." Esna waves back up to the Prorator, where, the hull subsections of a Pilgrim-class force recon were rapidly emerging from the cargo bay. "And she's got room to spare."

Amatos blinked once, pulled out a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, and blinked again. "Impressive, but why?"

"I need a combat-capable ship. And I need a transport. They both fit."

Amatos look back down. "So they do. But why here?"

Esna started to walk, Amatos following close behind him. A slave fell in behind them both, handing a datapad bearing the profile of a Sebiestor woman to Amatos. "Have you heard of this person, Amatos?"
Amatos pulled his glasses off again to look at the datapad. "Angelina Ballentyne? No, why?"

Esna grimaced. "Nevermind. Amatos, I need a huge favor from you. A Carthum Net uplink, inside your system. Not Galnet."
Amatos glances at Esna, his face neutral. "I could get fired for that. You aren't even affiliated with that Loyalist bunch anymore."
"So just tell me how to get to find and get into one. Where I won't be disturbed. Nobody can link it to you."

Amatos finally relented with a sigh. "Alright. For you, friend."
A wide smile split Esna's face. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this helps me."
Amatos grunted, writing out some notes on the datapad, then handing it over to Esna. "There. And if I get fired, you're paying my pension."
"If you you get fired, I will hire you to keep my hangars in shape."







"How the hell-"

Esna's hologram raised a finger to its lips. "Shh. Discuss later, buisness first."
"This is a secure-"

"And I have friends. You know this."

"I have a reputation-"

"You also have my assurance this line is secure."

Mesghoh Huchmib sighed. "Fine. What? And how did you get on the this net?"
Esna grinned widely. "I need a favor. A certain file within your legal net. About an upcoming event."
"That is a severe breach of security! If it ever got out that I'd done this, I could be made a rank two, even rank one agent!"
"You know I won't do that. I worked for you long enough to prove that."

"..."
Esna glanced away from the holocam and tapped a few buttons. Moments later, Mesghoh's mail service was flashing. "That's the profile on a person I believe to be held in a specific Carthum station. I need to know for sure. And then where."
Mesghoh examined the file, and for a brief second surprise flickered over his face. "A criminal?"
"Yes. I have an interest in her."
"Let me see... yes, she's to be sentenced in two days. To death, barring personal intervention of the Magistrate-"
"I need an invitation to the sentencing."
There was a long silence, during which Esna watched Mesghoh's chin tremble with increasing furiosity. Finally, the man broke it. "That is really- really- that is far to much!"
"Oh, do stop worrying. There's actually nothing wrong with suggesting my name be added to the roster. It's probably the most legal bit of this little endeavor."
Mesghoh considered this. Esna turned the screws a little more. "And besdies... I happen to know someone looking for a rank three agent in the area."
Mesghoh looked interested. "How long would this person be around?"
"Long enough to make it worth it for you. Another feather in your cap, for a relatively small favor."
"Fine. Empress damn you, Pitoojee, but you've got your invitation."
Esna smiled and faded out, the grin and salute he gave Mesghoh the last thing visible before he dissapeared.

Acting on instinct

Bloody hell. She had to do it. At a time like this.

I suppose I could be called a coward. I have a tremendous urge not to do some things that might need to be done. Not to speak words that have to be said. To stand back and be analytical to a fault. And sometimes, I realise that this prevents me from getting things done.

But sometimes, someone does something so spectacularly foolish that I look up and thank God that he has given me the patience to think before dashing off. I'm thankful I don't go charging into the dens of those who hate me, hoping to earn some sort of... redemption when there's no chance of any such thing.

In short, I'm thankful I didn't do what Carmilla's foolish sister did, running right into the center of the storm she started without any method of getting out, without any chance of them seeing reason, and without any hope of escaping.

I mean, I can't fault those poor people for not seeing reason. She did slaughter a monestary. But to give herself up without any chance of escape? Does she have any idea of how much this is going to hurt Carmilla?

I'd better be getting over there. Find what I can.

Paradoxes of the faithful

Why is it that our people, those chosen to serve God, the only in the cluster to base our entire government on His edicts, are so prone to such flagrant and terrible abuses of his word?

I've been contacted by Ciarente, of all people.

Someone using Amarr-built power armors has kidnapped one of her crew along with a number of ex-slaves they were transporting. Within the Empire's borders, too. In the middle of high-sec, for that matter. How much more blatantly defy the laws of the Empire?

M'ser, you and I disagree on some things. But you've never been dishonest with me.

I suppose I should be thankful that she trusts me... but lately, between Tavrook, Mehatek, and whoever is responsible for this... It seems lately no one cares about slaves besides getting more of them and using them for personal gain.

No one cares about them being slaves, not mindless automatons. Slaves, but still human slaves.

And if my worst fears are true, no one cares what happens to them or where they go. Given the information Ciarente has provided me, I've assembled enought to trace the transport her crewmember was last seen on to Avair. Avair... Liela constellation. Asoutar, Avair, Clarelam, Ebo, Porsharrah, Rayl and Tastella. Every low-sec system in there has its moons full, and for a damn good reason.

I need to move fast. If she was taken to Avair, she could be gone quite quickly. And for he same reason we used to - I used to - deploy out of Liela, tracing exactly where she'd gone would be difficult in the extreme. Tracking down and cornering her would be... hell, near impossible if they're as smart as I am. Which, given who we're likely to be dealing with here, is quite likely.

And if it's Providence, or CVA... I don't care to have dealings with them again. Not until they pull their act together and deal with the abuses and rot in their core. Hell, at the moment Providence would be easier to slip into. I might even... *Esna chuckles softly.* I might even end up working with the 'Khan. Or at least Eliza. She's probably the only one willing to listen to me.

Anyhow, I need to move out now.

Returning to the book

It's been... hell, nearly 2 months since I wrote something here.

To long. So much that can happen in this time.

Great Wildlands remains much the same, as does Insmother. That, at least, one can take comfort in. We haven't been invaded yet.

Everything else, however...

Well, Seraphim and Jasmin are finally getting married. Damn long enough.. She's had a hard time Jasmin away, and it will be good to have that finally through and set in stone.

And Hitome... oh, Hitome.. I see now what Math'ra meant when he told me she was his corp's best troublemaker. Of course, I still don't love her any less - doubt I ever will - but it is... exciting when someone you think of as your unofficial sister goes and gets so depressed she strips in the middle of a bar to get someone's attention, and then tries to kill herself when that fails to get the desired result.
Fortunately, she's past that. Long past it. She's pulled herself together, found herself a new corp, and is smiling and laughing in the first time in far to long. No more of this "I'm not worth it" "I can't do anything" or "I am not a good pilot". She's finally pulled herself up again.

But, then, there is always a new problem for every one solved. That problem is an enemy of a close friend. A tormentor of one I find myself caring for.

Galicia Tavrook... to call him a slimeball and a bastard son of a bitch is an insult to simeballs and bastard sons of bitches everywhere. He's the reason I fight. The epitome of the evil slaver stereotype. A Blooder who evidently doesn't even believe in their twisted faith, a Serpentis associate who seems to take a particular delight in psychological torture of his slaves... he needs to die.

Slowly.