Pardon the uh, dust. That cool little Sturgeon I've been motoring around in for the last week or so is on loan, and I wasn't exactly expecting you to actually call me-call me on such a short notice. You know how many hoops I had to jump through just to get this message out? On top of that, my gracious employers in spandex probably aren't going to be very amused when they find out I'm sending personal messages on company hardware, so I'll try and keep it brief.

You mentioned something about moonlighting as a bartender and knowing stuff about cool drinks earlier, and I'm a sucker for free stuff--I mean, I'm eternally grateful for your generosity and patronage, so just name a time and a place, and I'll try to show up. That is, if I'm not busy blockading Bering or doing other cool...things.

Consider it a deal, as much as I’d have preferred to meet on a Zoner Freeport. Things look like they’re starting to wind down here in Bering, so I shouldn’t have much of a problem with slipping off into Rheinland in the company ship during downtime unless the Unioners decide to show up in force again. Hopefully I don’t run into trouble with the law or anything on the way there, but since my Scimitar struck a mine a few days ago and is still being pieced back together in an “undisclosed location”, I don’t think have much of a choice aside from bringing So Help Me. That is, unless I get a shuttle ride, but any shuttle pilot coming out of that Freeport is going to be sketchy at best, probably outright malicious at worst, so you can miss me with that.

Also—what mess? I’ll have you know I keep my workstation on this thing very clean. It just so happens that once the spandies got their hands on this thing, they immediately stripped out most of the systems and replaced them with robotics and other complicated electronic nonsense. Add in all the armor they welded onto it and it’s pretty much only got enough room for one person: me. All I get is some basic manual flight controls, some MFDs, and a nice comfy chair to sit in for a couple of hours at a time. At least they had the courtesy to cordon off all the electronics so I don’t feel like I’m sitting on the set of some kind of weird Kusarian pop music video with loose wires and other BDSM analogues hanging off the ceiling.

One more thing. You’ll have to tell me how to get to Heisenberg. I try my best to avoid places where people smarter than me like to congregate, and judging by the advertisements and search results I got when I looked it up on the Neural Net, it looks an awful lot like one of those places. But, beggars can’t be choosers, and besides. Might be worth broadening my horizons or whatever.

Anyways, I’ll see you then, I guess.

I can’t say that I’m fond of the Sigmas now with the new war going on. I might be better off just going to Heisenberg, especially considering you’re already there. Just uh, stay put for a bit and keep out of trouble until tomorrow, yeah? Yeah.