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[blip] Automated sequence initiated
Last login: Mon Jun 19 4434 11:41:55 on ttyp195
Deep-Blue:~ mogul_velaio$ running script...
Supervisor mode locked.
Process priority: Fleet Admiral level
Estimated script run time: 4 days 17 hours 31 minutes ...
decompressing archive... (1TB packets)
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############################################# done.
analysing encryption checksum...
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decrypting files...
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spawning notification thread...
decrypting files (continued) ...
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Deep-Blue:~ mogul_velaio$ running script...
Supervisor mode locked.
Process priority: Fleet Admiral level
Estimated script run time: 4 days 17 hours 31 minutes ...
decompressing archive... (1TB packets)
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############################################# done.
analysing encryption checksum...
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####################################################################### done.
decrypting files...
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spawning notification thread...
decrypting files (continued) ...
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####################### done.
Notification thread starting... done.
Initiating location beacons... done.
Waiting for response on
target 1: #################################### signal acquired.
target 2: ################################ signal acquired.
target 3: #################################### signal acquired.
target 4: ################################### signal acquired.
Initiating location beacons... done.
Waiting for response on
target 1: #################################### signal acquired.
target 2: ################################ signal acquired.
target 3: #################################### signal acquired.
target 4: ################################### signal acquired.
Vaal'Ok Dasmar was used to sleeping in squalid places but this one exacerbated him above all previous ones.
Countless bugs and rodents had kept his much-required night sleep just beyond reach. How did such creatures ever find their way on spaceships and space stations was beyond him. How was it that pirates were bound by that curse? Since the dawn of their travel, dating back to corsair ships, pirates had to coexist with them.
Was it really the fate of Vaal'Ok? Trying hard not to think about it and to keep his eyes closed, he wondered how the high-profile scoundrels maintained their morale as he hand-slapped a bug buzzing on his hip.
An eyebrow moved up and the eye lid uncovered an inquisitive eye. The bug was still vibrating under his hand. No bugs he knew about would have survived that treatment and yet... this one kept on buzzing...
In a reflex typically characterized by infants or weaklings in the face of bees, Vaal'Ok jumped up on his feet trying to wipe off the unwelcome guest. At that point, he realized it was no insect, but a small object in his pocket. Vaal'Ok reached in and pulled out an antique ceramic pistol bullet.
This one was vibrating. And he knew full well what he had to no next. Steal a ship and plug the disguised transponder into it's communication system.
So much for sleep.
But this was too important to miss out. Who was using his previous' client's transponder, now that this client was dead?
Countless bugs and rodents had kept his much-required night sleep just beyond reach. How did such creatures ever find their way on spaceships and space stations was beyond him. How was it that pirates were bound by that curse? Since the dawn of their travel, dating back to corsair ships, pirates had to coexist with them.
Was it really the fate of Vaal'Ok? Trying hard not to think about it and to keep his eyes closed, he wondered how the high-profile scoundrels maintained their morale as he hand-slapped a bug buzzing on his hip.
An eyebrow moved up and the eye lid uncovered an inquisitive eye. The bug was still vibrating under his hand. No bugs he knew about would have survived that treatment and yet... this one kept on buzzing...
In a reflex typically characterized by infants or weaklings in the face of bees, Vaal'Ok jumped up on his feet trying to wipe off the unwelcome guest. At that point, he realized it was no insect, but a small object in his pocket. Vaal'Ok reached in and pulled out an antique ceramic pistol bullet.
This one was vibrating. And he knew full well what he had to no next. Steal a ship and plug the disguised transponder into it's communication system.
So much for sleep.
But this was too important to miss out. Who was using his previous' client's transponder, now that this client was dead?
Miharu sighed and took another sip of water from her glass before going back to cleaning up the bar before closing. Tonight had been a comparatively busy night; but in comparison to the usual Saturday racing crowd it was pretty slow, especially compared to the Saturdays when the Makchuga's crew themselves hosted or co-hosted the Deneb Run.
Taking a wet cloth, Miharu wiped down the counter and tables, brushing all the crumbs from the meals of the day's patrons into a small tray, which she emptied into the waste chute before placing it into the washer.
Miharu was about to lock up and arm the security systems when a loud buzzing noise started coming from somewhere in the bar. Her first thought was to run, but the fact that the security systems hadn't activated meant that they hadn't detected a threat in the bar. Warily, she moved about the bar, testing to see where the noise could be coming from. As she moved behind the counter, the noise suddenly got much louder, and she kneeled down, not seeing anything in plain sight that could be causing the noise.
A small object wrapped in synth-paper had been stuck to the underside of the counter where the mugs and tankards were stored. It was vibrating visibly; clearly it was the source of the noise. She reached under and pulled the object off the underside of the counter. As she stood up and held it up to look at it, something fell out of the wrapping and hit the floor with a small ping. She picked up the still-vibrating object, and unfolded the wrapping. She recognized the short message inside as being written in an old, almost-forgotten language of Earth.
Just from the particular language, Miharu knew it could only have been written by one of a very small number of people who had ever visited the Makchuga while she'd been working there. She looked at the small object in her hand. It hadn't stopped vibrating, but the impatient buzzing had dulled down to a quiet hum. Miharu turned it over and around in her hand.
It was a ceramic bullet, from an old projectile firearm, like those used on Earth for hunting. But why it was buzzing, she didn't understand. She put it in her pocket with the note, and finished locking up the bar.
-----
When she got back to her apartment, she immediately sat down at her desk and took out the bullet, putting it and the note down in front of her. Her holographic assistant appeared a few seconds afterward.
"How was the bar today, Miharu-san?" the hologuide asked cheerfully, bobbing its bluish-white apparition up and down as it spoke.
"Busy, but not too much to handle," Miharu shrugged as she examined the ceramic bullet. "Nothing like the Saturday crowds, though. Where's Eon? Any new messages?"
"He's in the other room, reading something about Divinian wildlife, I think... and you have two new messages. I'll let him know you're home. Would you like to hear them?"
Miharu nodded, not looking away from the ceramic bullet. "Yes, I would, Aoikun."
Aoikun turned into a small star briefly, then started: "The first is from Doctor Dookun, reminding you that your appointment is this Friday."
"Yap, I know about that one. You can tell her I'll be there."
"Okay," Aoikun replied. "The second is from your sister. She wants to know when you're coming home next, and if there's anything special she should have waiting for you; she asked about food and drink in particular."
Miharu peered at the bottom of the bullet, replying, "Um... I should be going home within a week or two. It'll depend on how busy things are down here, so... I don't know."
"Done," Aoikun said, floating down nearer to her face. "What is that, Miharu-san?" he asked.
Miharu shrugged. "Don't know. Found it under the counter of the bar with this note. I have an idea of who left it there, but what it is... no clue."
"Well, it seems to be transmitting and receiving a signal," Aoikun said, drifting closer to the bullet. "So I think it's safe to say it's either a homing beacon of some kind or a communicator. But who do you think would have left it there?"
Miharu pointed at the note on the table. "The note's written in an ancient language called French. I have known very few pilots who knew that language fluently. Two of them have been in my bar, and both of them knew each other."
"Who were they?" Aoikun asked, floating down to the note.
"Mogul Velaio and that odd fellow who goes by the moniker 'upper case' but writes only in lowercase letters."
"Ah!" Aoikun chirped, understanding. "You mean the Mogul Velaio that tried to close the wormhole to Latos in Sedina B-8?"
Miharu nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, my scans show that the note was written at most a month and a half ago," Aoikun said, bobbing up and down excitedly, "and that his DNA isn't on it, so it must have been this upper case person that left it in the bar."
"Okay, so what about the bullet? What am I supposed to do with it? I'd like to get the damn thing to stop buzzing." Miharu leaned back in her chair, picking up the bullet again and holding it up to the light.
"Well, I suppose you need to activate it somehow, or figure out how to respond to the signal, Miharu-san..."
Miharu nodded, and started fiddling with the device a bit more.
-----
It took several hours of work, about a pint of hot chocolate, and three and a half boxes of pocky, but Miharu managed to figure out how to interface the ceramic bullet with her PDS. Several more scans and tests by Aoikun had confirmed it was a comm unit, albeit a rather unorthodox one. By using one of the adapters for her own comm unit, she managed to get her PDS to interface with the device sometime early in the morning.
When she did, the buzzing stopped. She'd expected that would be the end of it.
She was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Taking a wet cloth, Miharu wiped down the counter and tables, brushing all the crumbs from the meals of the day's patrons into a small tray, which she emptied into the waste chute before placing it into the washer.
Miharu was about to lock up and arm the security systems when a loud buzzing noise started coming from somewhere in the bar. Her first thought was to run, but the fact that the security systems hadn't activated meant that they hadn't detected a threat in the bar. Warily, she moved about the bar, testing to see where the noise could be coming from. As she moved behind the counter, the noise suddenly got much louder, and she kneeled down, not seeing anything in plain sight that could be causing the noise.
A small object wrapped in synth-paper had been stuck to the underside of the counter where the mugs and tankards were stored. It was vibrating visibly; clearly it was the source of the noise. She reached under and pulled the object off the underside of the counter. As she stood up and held it up to look at it, something fell out of the wrapping and hit the floor with a small ping. She picked up the still-vibrating object, and unfolded the wrapping. She recognized the short message inside as being written in an old, almost-forgotten language of Earth.
Just from the particular language, Miharu knew it could only have been written by one of a very small number of people who had ever visited the Makchuga while she'd been working there. She looked at the small object in her hand. It hadn't stopped vibrating, but the impatient buzzing had dulled down to a quiet hum. Miharu turned it over and around in her hand.
It was a ceramic bullet, from an old projectile firearm, like those used on Earth for hunting. But why it was buzzing, she didn't understand. She put it in her pocket with the note, and finished locking up the bar.
-----
When she got back to her apartment, she immediately sat down at her desk and took out the bullet, putting it and the note down in front of her. Her holographic assistant appeared a few seconds afterward.
"How was the bar today, Miharu-san?" the hologuide asked cheerfully, bobbing its bluish-white apparition up and down as it spoke.
"Busy, but not too much to handle," Miharu shrugged as she examined the ceramic bullet. "Nothing like the Saturday crowds, though. Where's Eon? Any new messages?"
"He's in the other room, reading something about Divinian wildlife, I think... and you have two new messages. I'll let him know you're home. Would you like to hear them?"
Miharu nodded, not looking away from the ceramic bullet. "Yes, I would, Aoikun."
Aoikun turned into a small star briefly, then started: "The first is from Doctor Dookun, reminding you that your appointment is this Friday."
"Yap, I know about that one. You can tell her I'll be there."
"Okay," Aoikun replied. "The second is from your sister. She wants to know when you're coming home next, and if there's anything special she should have waiting for you; she asked about food and drink in particular."
Miharu peered at the bottom of the bullet, replying, "Um... I should be going home within a week or two. It'll depend on how busy things are down here, so... I don't know."
"Done," Aoikun said, floating down nearer to her face. "What is that, Miharu-san?" he asked.
Miharu shrugged. "Don't know. Found it under the counter of the bar with this note. I have an idea of who left it there, but what it is... no clue."
"Well, it seems to be transmitting and receiving a signal," Aoikun said, drifting closer to the bullet. "So I think it's safe to say it's either a homing beacon of some kind or a communicator. But who do you think would have left it there?"
Miharu pointed at the note on the table. "The note's written in an ancient language called French. I have known very few pilots who knew that language fluently. Two of them have been in my bar, and both of them knew each other."
"Who were they?" Aoikun asked, floating down to the note.
"Mogul Velaio and that odd fellow who goes by the moniker 'upper case' but writes only in lowercase letters."
"Ah!" Aoikun chirped, understanding. "You mean the Mogul Velaio that tried to close the wormhole to Latos in Sedina B-8?"
Miharu nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, my scans show that the note was written at most a month and a half ago," Aoikun said, bobbing up and down excitedly, "and that his DNA isn't on it, so it must have been this upper case person that left it in the bar."
"Okay, so what about the bullet? What am I supposed to do with it? I'd like to get the damn thing to stop buzzing." Miharu leaned back in her chair, picking up the bullet again and holding it up to the light.
"Well, I suppose you need to activate it somehow, or figure out how to respond to the signal, Miharu-san..."
Miharu nodded, and started fiddling with the device a bit more.
-----
It took several hours of work, about a pint of hot chocolate, and three and a half boxes of pocky, but Miharu managed to figure out how to interface the ceramic bullet with her PDS. Several more scans and tests by Aoikun had confirmed it was a comm unit, albeit a rather unorthodox one. By using one of the adapters for her own comm unit, she managed to get her PDS to interface with the device sometime early in the morning.
When she did, the buzzing stopped. She'd expected that would be the end of it.
She was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Sitting comfortably in his new ship, Vaal'Ok Dasmar couldn't care less to hear on the on-board comm system all the rambling of the Aeolus fleet, looking for their stolen station guard vulture.
It was quite amusing, he thought, that ripping a ship's transponder off and jumping to an clear sector in grey space was enough to basically take possession of a ship. regardless of it's size.
"Come here you little bugger" he muttered while digging into his pocket for the dancing bullet. "Let's see who stole my mentor's PDA..."
Vaal'Ok Dasmar looked at the bullet and placed the bullet primer's flat surface on the ship's comm system. A magnetic coil ensured a secure fit on the comm system's electrostatic switch and the bullet stopped buzzing.
The on-board ship's screen turned to black and, instead of the expected face, started receiving transmission codes.
Vaal'Ok was amused but still wondered where this would lead to...
It was quite amusing, he thought, that ripping a ship's transponder off and jumping to an clear sector in grey space was enough to basically take possession of a ship. regardless of it's size.
"Come here you little bugger" he muttered while digging into his pocket for the dancing bullet. "Let's see who stole my mentor's PDA..."
Vaal'Ok Dasmar looked at the bullet and placed the bullet primer's flat surface on the ship's comm system. A magnetic coil ensured a secure fit on the comm system's electrostatic switch and the bullet stopped buzzing.
The on-board ship's screen turned to black and, instead of the expected face, started receiving transmission codes.
Vaal'Ok was amused but still wondered where this would lead to...
<OOC: co-authored for reaction/detail veracity>
uploading script ...
####### done.
launching script ...
.
system check...
system type: personal digital assistant
registered to: Miharu Sena Kanaka
pilot transponder ID: 39929
** Identity confirmed.
decrypting video recording...
## done.
playing back recording...
"Hi!"
Miharu's eyes opened wide when she saw the face on the screen of the PDA. She momentarily forgot she'd just taken a small sip of hot chocolate, and when she started to scream as if she'd seen a ghost, she ended up swallowing the hot chocolate down the wrong pipe in the process.
Even though her eyes were watery from choking, Miharu could reassess the face she had thought she had seen. It was, indeed, none other than that of Mogul Velaio.
"This is a recording as I'm sure you are aware so dont worry about me using any critical information on whatever comm system you've hooked this to. I'm not quite sure how you managed to connect this device as I don't recall ever telling you how I used them on... lets say, various occasions in the past. But the fact that you're listening to this shows to me that you are resourceful and that I wasn't wrong in selecting you for the following."
"Please offer a bottle of fruit juice to one of my protégé." That last word sounded alien for a second, until Miharu realized Mogul had used one of his old dialect words again.
The recording continued without a pause: "I'm sure you know wich one I'm talking about. He's usually very discreet, as I'm sure he was when he slipped that communication transponder decoder in your establishment."
"I was told we know each other and that it's an unfortunate fact that I do not remember you. It's also unfortunate that I'm most-likelly dead by now, as this automated script was meant to be sent in that event."
"I've been told we've not always had a good rapport and that I am, it seems, entirely responsible for this. If I have not done so already, I apologize."
"Long story short, as a result of a surgical intervention, I have lost memories of the past few months and select long-term memories. I have been shown some newscasts, station news transmissions and some recordings of some of my recent actions wich would warrant us not being good friends. Though, for some reason, you stuck around and helped me in my hardships."
"For this reason and because no one else would deserve my trust, I am sending you my ship logs, extra notes and otherwise unpublished documents on personal and galaxy affairs."
"This transmission is a one-shot deal. So, as soon as you disconnect this communication transponder, the next time you connect it, make sure whatever device you use has plenty room for it. Anything after that, from the automated sequence wich concernes you, will otherwise disappear and you will have the only copy in existence."
"You are free to do what you want with these documents. Use them for your ventures as, perhaps, market advantages. Or capitalize on the memories of one of the worse vilains, traitors, lunatics to plague recent Itani history... whichever sauce you want to stir my name into. I've been called many things as a result of my actions. It's too bad none remember how dedicated I was to our cause. The itani cause at the very least."
"With these words ends this transmission. There are other recordings of mine in what you will be sent. Though they predate this time of renewed sanity as far as I'm concerned."
"Live a good life, Miharu Sena Kanaka. You and your familly."
The screen turned black and a photo of planet Itan faded in, ending the recording.
uploading script ...
####### done.
launching script ...
.
system check...
system type: personal digital assistant
registered to: Miharu Sena Kanaka
pilot transponder ID: 39929
** Identity confirmed.
decrypting video recording...
## done.
playing back recording...
"Hi!"
Miharu's eyes opened wide when she saw the face on the screen of the PDA. She momentarily forgot she'd just taken a small sip of hot chocolate, and when she started to scream as if she'd seen a ghost, she ended up swallowing the hot chocolate down the wrong pipe in the process.
Even though her eyes were watery from choking, Miharu could reassess the face she had thought she had seen. It was, indeed, none other than that of Mogul Velaio.
"This is a recording as I'm sure you are aware so dont worry about me using any critical information on whatever comm system you've hooked this to. I'm not quite sure how you managed to connect this device as I don't recall ever telling you how I used them on... lets say, various occasions in the past. But the fact that you're listening to this shows to me that you are resourceful and that I wasn't wrong in selecting you for the following."
"Please offer a bottle of fruit juice to one of my protégé." That last word sounded alien for a second, until Miharu realized Mogul had used one of his old dialect words again.
The recording continued without a pause: "I'm sure you know wich one I'm talking about. He's usually very discreet, as I'm sure he was when he slipped that communication transponder decoder in your establishment."
"I was told we know each other and that it's an unfortunate fact that I do not remember you. It's also unfortunate that I'm most-likelly dead by now, as this automated script was meant to be sent in that event."
"I've been told we've not always had a good rapport and that I am, it seems, entirely responsible for this. If I have not done so already, I apologize."
"Long story short, as a result of a surgical intervention, I have lost memories of the past few months and select long-term memories. I have been shown some newscasts, station news transmissions and some recordings of some of my recent actions wich would warrant us not being good friends. Though, for some reason, you stuck around and helped me in my hardships."
"For this reason and because no one else would deserve my trust, I am sending you my ship logs, extra notes and otherwise unpublished documents on personal and galaxy affairs."
"This transmission is a one-shot deal. So, as soon as you disconnect this communication transponder, the next time you connect it, make sure whatever device you use has plenty room for it. Anything after that, from the automated sequence wich concernes you, will otherwise disappear and you will have the only copy in existence."
"You are free to do what you want with these documents. Use them for your ventures as, perhaps, market advantages. Or capitalize on the memories of one of the worse vilains, traitors, lunatics to plague recent Itani history... whichever sauce you want to stir my name into. I've been called many things as a result of my actions. It's too bad none remember how dedicated I was to our cause. The itani cause at the very least."
"With these words ends this transmission. There are other recordings of mine in what you will be sent. Though they predate this time of renewed sanity as far as I'm concerned."
"Live a good life, Miharu Sena Kanaka. You and your familly."
The screen turned black and a photo of planet Itan faded in, ending the recording.
upper case had had a long few weeks, since the demise of his mentor. weither this last one was crazy or not meant nothing to upper case as the result, as far as he was concerned, had been nothing but stellar.
from a self-employed entrepreneur doing not much and not having any kind of recognition at any level whatsoever, mogul velaio has propelled his career in ways upper case couldn't imagine possible just a few months back.
it is that new career, as council of one of the most influential itani guild, certainly the biggest one, that had kept upper case quite busy in the recent week. ranging from various serco-side operations to heavy deneb assignment, upper case suddenly didn't have much time to deal with his own personal life and agenda.
so, being all entangled in his work, it was with complete surprise, on an unscheduled visit to his usual nesting place in jallik, that a little box on his private desk, had been carving out a trail in the dust. just as it would have crawled on it's own like a snail. only one person could have entered that room and it was himself. but he snail-like box, on the table, contained one object which upper case knew could be the cause of the box's surprising journey around an unwashed coffee mug (which was slowly transforming itself into some sort of chia-cup).
upper case placed the vanity box back where it originally was (squarely in it's dust frame), opened it and grabbed an antique ceramic, vibrating, bullet. it was a good thing that his commanding officer was not in the sector, he thought to himself, as smittens would surely have wanted to see how it could be possible that mogul's homing beacon would vibrate, when the only person capable of activating it was, according to all accounts, totally vaporized.
not new to the working principles of this device, upper case climbed back in his valkyrie with the bullet and flew into an unmarked sector in grey space before disconnecting his ship's transponder and making a series of random jumps in order to completely conceal his location. a total radio silence and the nothingness of space gave upper case that feeling of privacy he enjoyed so much when dealing with his former master.
connecting the device, upper case witnessed what seemed like an automated script running on his ship's screens and waited for the short sequence to terminate. then, a number of files started being downloaded and finally, a pre-recorded video address was played.
"Hi quiet one!"
upper case, being who he is, never could grasp all the exuberance mogul could display in a single hello.
"I'm dead! You won our bet, rascal!"
yes... exuberant all right...
"If everything went right, our little universe is in motion as I thought it might proceed should the wormhole disruption failed. Which means, everything is more or less as it was with everyone shooting each-other down as always."
"So, in theory, plan B is in motion. I hope that by now, you've gained a good spot into [ITAN] and that, perhaps, you might get a council spot in the next elections. It would certainly help, but I suppose it's not mandatory. You just keep pushing them buttons, all right?"
"I will have you meet someone soon. Should he keep his end of the bargain, you two will eventually collide and for this, you need to be made aware of some truths. But not now. Just remember the name Dasmar. He is, hum, an acquaintance of mine and you should make sure to keep away from him for now, but also keep [ITAN] out of his way too. If you can influence that."
"Miharu was sent those selected documents. I hope you are right about her."
"This script should have downloaded interesting things for you, and a file for your commander. Should Smittens still be your CO, that is. i bet this flibustier in the making will be quite surprised by that."
"I'm off for now. But you'll ear from me again. From the grave! Boo-hoo!".
exuberant.
upper case sighed and watched the last of the documents download in his ship's computer, after which he disconnected the device and flew back to jallik for safekeeping of these files.
from a self-employed entrepreneur doing not much and not having any kind of recognition at any level whatsoever, mogul velaio has propelled his career in ways upper case couldn't imagine possible just a few months back.
it is that new career, as council of one of the most influential itani guild, certainly the biggest one, that had kept upper case quite busy in the recent week. ranging from various serco-side operations to heavy deneb assignment, upper case suddenly didn't have much time to deal with his own personal life and agenda.
so, being all entangled in his work, it was with complete surprise, on an unscheduled visit to his usual nesting place in jallik, that a little box on his private desk, had been carving out a trail in the dust. just as it would have crawled on it's own like a snail. only one person could have entered that room and it was himself. but he snail-like box, on the table, contained one object which upper case knew could be the cause of the box's surprising journey around an unwashed coffee mug (which was slowly transforming itself into some sort of chia-cup).
upper case placed the vanity box back where it originally was (squarely in it's dust frame), opened it and grabbed an antique ceramic, vibrating, bullet. it was a good thing that his commanding officer was not in the sector, he thought to himself, as smittens would surely have wanted to see how it could be possible that mogul's homing beacon would vibrate, when the only person capable of activating it was, according to all accounts, totally vaporized.
not new to the working principles of this device, upper case climbed back in his valkyrie with the bullet and flew into an unmarked sector in grey space before disconnecting his ship's transponder and making a series of random jumps in order to completely conceal his location. a total radio silence and the nothingness of space gave upper case that feeling of privacy he enjoyed so much when dealing with his former master.
connecting the device, upper case witnessed what seemed like an automated script running on his ship's screens and waited for the short sequence to terminate. then, a number of files started being downloaded and finally, a pre-recorded video address was played.
"Hi quiet one!"
upper case, being who he is, never could grasp all the exuberance mogul could display in a single hello.
"I'm dead! You won our bet, rascal!"
yes... exuberant all right...
"If everything went right, our little universe is in motion as I thought it might proceed should the wormhole disruption failed. Which means, everything is more or less as it was with everyone shooting each-other down as always."
"So, in theory, plan B is in motion. I hope that by now, you've gained a good spot into [ITAN] and that, perhaps, you might get a council spot in the next elections. It would certainly help, but I suppose it's not mandatory. You just keep pushing them buttons, all right?"
"I will have you meet someone soon. Should he keep his end of the bargain, you two will eventually collide and for this, you need to be made aware of some truths. But not now. Just remember the name Dasmar. He is, hum, an acquaintance of mine and you should make sure to keep away from him for now, but also keep [ITAN] out of his way too. If you can influence that."
"Miharu was sent those selected documents. I hope you are right about her."
"This script should have downloaded interesting things for you, and a file for your commander. Should Smittens still be your CO, that is. i bet this flibustier in the making will be quite surprised by that."
"I'm off for now. But you'll ear from me again. From the grave! Boo-hoo!".
exuberant.
upper case sighed and watched the last of the documents download in his ship's computer, after which he disconnected the device and flew back to jallik for safekeeping of these files.
Last login: Mon Jul 2 13:23:13 on tty-643
Big-Blue:~ sMogul$ cron -x /usr/lib/cron/.sMogul/tabs/eof.cron
cron: can't open or create /var/run/cron.pid: Permission denied
Big-Blue:~ sMogul$ sudo cron -x /usr/lib/cron/.sMogul/tabs/eof.cron
Password:
>echo "terminating process"
terminating process
...
sMogul -shutdown -r NOW
* Terminating remote agents... Done.
* One process hung
killall sMogul
* permission denied- no process belonging to you were found.
sudo killall sMogul
.
.
sudo cd /users/lebermac/to-dos/.sMogul/
sudo rm -drf *
cd ../
rmdir .sMogul
.
Done.
Big-Blue:~ sMogul$ exit
Big-Blue: no shell!
Process terminated.
[Disconnected]$ ~
Big-Blue:~ sMogul$ cron -x /usr/lib/cron/.sMogul/tabs/eof.cron
cron: can't open or create /var/run/cron.pid: Permission denied
Big-Blue:~ sMogul$ sudo cron -x /usr/lib/cron/.sMogul/tabs/eof.cron
Password:
>echo "terminating process"
terminating process
...
sMogul -shutdown -r NOW
* Terminating remote agents... Done.
* One process hung
killall sMogul
* permission denied- no process belonging to you were found.
sudo killall sMogul
.
.
sudo cd /users/lebermac/to-dos/.sMogul/
sudo rm -drf *
cd ../
rmdir .sMogul
.
Done.
Big-Blue:~ sMogul$ exit
Big-Blue: no shell!
Process terminated.
[Disconnected]$ ~
WTF sMogul was running as one of MY user processes?!?
Damnit.
Oh and...
Another man has this to say: "It's Blak! [The now disbanded Black Lance Guild -ed.] Has to be. They're like 50-armed puppeteers, pulling their strings all over the galaxy, steering every one of us toward their own devious end game!"
Damnit.
Oh and...
Another man has this to say: "It's Blak! [The now disbanded Black Lance Guild -ed.] Has to be. They're like 50-armed puppeteers, pulling their strings all over the galaxy, steering every one of us toward their own devious end game!"