I've known I'm being watched ever since I woke up in that cryotube. And I made the rookie mistake of not checking the voice print on that recording before a trojan in my ship's mainframe corrupted it beyond all recovery. But I've learned since then.
It's possible I've angered the wrong people. But even worse than the prospect of being tracked by corporate killers is the continuing revelations concerning who I work for and who I've chosen to ally myself with.
But in the end, if I deal with devils, they are the lesser threats. Whoever or whatever is responsible for the death of the Jovian fleet is the real enemy. And regardless of what my species is responsible for, no one deserves to be murdered and left to drift forever, forgotten and alone.
I'd spent enough time reacting. It was time to take the fight to my adversary.
Fortunately, I wasn't so bewildered that I'd failed to record my host's voice back at the scene of carnage. I tasked my shipboard AI with the less-than-legal job of devoting processor cycles to searching through audio samples from Scope, planet-side broadcasts, local system traffic and the surveillance records of every station I'd visited. Naturally, this involved more covert hacking than I was used to. My wetware is still learning, but I'm confident that endurance will be my greatest weapon in this secret war.
Still, all the prep and patience didn't stop a palpable shock from jolting my brain when a match was returned. Of course, it's conceivable that my employer let me find it. And I wonder more and more how much that matters to him. If it matters at all.
Here is the transcript. Read it carefully, but the true revelation comes afterward.
LOCATION: Hangar 18, TransStellar Shipping Storage Facility, Pashanai System, Amarr Empire
SPEAKER 1: I don't do contraband.
SPEAKER 2: Food is hardly contraband, Ms. Illat.
SPEAKER 1: Do I even have to say it? Food doesn't weigh in like equipment and make cargo scanners report electrical anomalies. It's bad enough I have to sneak these people past the border. I don't need another hassle. So read my lips: I.. don't.. do.. contraband.
SPEAKER 2: Then I will merely tell you what my employer has told me. First, you are being paid almost double your usual rate for the transport. Second, you have his word of honor that this crate contains no contraband. Third...
SPEAKER 1: Here we go. I was wondering when the threat was coming.
SPEAKER 2: Actually I was going to say that your own past ought to make you sympathetic to what we're trying to accomplish. But if you prefer a threat, I will oblige. At my employer's behest, I have made a few contacts. You have three hours to deliver this cargo safely into the Chantrousse system in Gallente space. If the cargo has not been scanned by our cargo master within that time, my associate will not meet you.
SPEAKER 1: That's it?
SPEAKER 2: That, as you say, is it.
SPEAKER 1: That was a threat, right?
SPEAKER 2: Oh, most assuredly. And before you ask: yes, you should be frightened. The poison has, after all, entered your bloodstream by now.
<<A FEW SECONDS OF SILENCE>>
SPEAKER 2: Yes, the dataslate is contaminated. And yes, I have touched it as well. Like you, I am also dying from the experience. Unlike you, however, I do not fear death.
SPEAKER 1: You're a capsuleer?
SPEAKER 2: Quite. And you are not. However, as I was about to mention: my associate is ready to administer the antidote to you upon successful transfer of the cargo. Complete this job and no more will be said. I trust we understand one another.
SPEAKER 1: You son of a...
SPEAKER 2: Tut, tut. Your time is limited and you are already cleared for departure. I am no barbarian, Ms. Illat. I have no wish to kill you. Indeed, rest assured that I have made all the arrangements to ensure that you will arrive on schedule and with time to spare. The space between here and the Chantrousse stargate is presently clear of all traffic and will remain so for some time.
SPEAKER 1: Why?
SPEAKER 2: The reasons are no concern of yours. Time is money, Ms. Illat. And in your case, it is life as well. I suggest you... what is the phrase... get a move-on.
I'm sure you've guessed by now that the second speaker is the same person who guided me to the graveyard of ships. But the first voice was a positive match for Menandi: the same woman that I rescued from the Angel Cartel!
I don't believe in coincidences. But the patterns are still hazy and complex. Something is moving behind life's curtain, and if I'm to uncover the truth behind my life and the lives of the Jovians, I'm going to have to stay alive long enough to dig deeper.
Wish me luck...
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