To: Susan McCarthy|Encryption: Achille:"Hack what you need then %^*£& off!"

[Enkidu]

****Instation Transmission: Location, Freeport 10 Tau 37****
****Transmission Impending****

***Intended target: Susan McCarthy***


----Logs accessed----

"Cheri, your utilisation of my glaring security negligence by dropping this little number onto my treasured work surface was admirable and seems truly... enterprising... for one just so recently employed by myself. It's good to see you regard your civil liberties highly, my friend, but perhaps you perceive them slightly too highly; oui?

*He grimaced, nudging the camera slightly off centre with his feet. From the new angle it's clear that his finger nails are actually clawing the armrests of his seat, driven on by nervous tension*

To be as blunt as an ox in a Cretian bull ring, I'm not overtly fond of individuals rifling through (what I colloquially describe) as "my stuff". This includes my office, that showcase of lumbar cushioning which is my chair, and any of my personal files and/or personal terminal. This not simply about soothing my paranoia Susan; you're very existence may depend on it. The actuality of it is, as soon as the door to my office is locked (well it wasn't here but that was only a minor oversight on my part), I've taken the precaution of installing a liberal provision of booby-traps, arm-traps, leg-traps, man-traps, woman-traps, eye-traps, buttock-traps and any other bodily related traps you could conceivably image, around the space. For instance, your little…" he breathed, exacting a considerable drain on the glass* "…drop of a note, shall we call it, could have conceivably set off a certain land mi…" *Achille stilted, pensively struggling with his phrasing.* "…A land-based-anti-personal-warhead, cunningly positioned into the adjourning bureau. And although crimson is one of my preferred tints I'm not exactly partial to having the entire room slathered with human entrails, so for future reference, all notifications are to be either slid under my door, placed into the relevant folder, or placed upon one of my more communal workstations in the Research Deck proper. It's your safety I'm concerned with dear…" *He sighs, a nail breaking,* "…And my sanity".

*Gradually the same, characteristic smile returns, rendered all the more notable for it's absence.*

"So, cheri, your requisition." *He swigs down the remaining contents of the glass with great gusto, as though struggling to get rid of it.* "…I, ahem, apologies…" *Achille coughs slightly*.


"Ah anyway. Yes, the requisition. Well cheri, one of the little wonders of being in a close-knit fraternity such as this is that if the Research department possesses sufficient resources in-stock (read, the fabricator's yard), then you hardly need my permission before you start on whatever creation you have buzzing around your bonnet. Just go straight ahead and sign for the supplies at storage, provisional manpower has been pre-arranged. Just flag down a lifter (or five) whilst your over there and all should work in your favour."

*Sucks in air through his teeth*

"For future purposes, notify be via neural net if you have anything you wish to request/declare. That's all Susan".

"Au revoir".

----Logs out----

***Achille out****

---

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)

Information | Recruitment | Message Dump |
Feedback | Diplomatic channel

(Links pending redevelopment).

[Remnant]

--Reply Incoming--

A woman with dark circles under her eyes, obviously really tired shows up on the screen.

"I find rather distaste in your failure to leave a general notice of this, but whatever.. That is none of my business. Your storehouses were missing what I required, which is precisely why I acted as such, yes.. Perhaps I may have made a mistake, but there wasn't anyone saying otherwise, that I know of at least."

Glancing down at a paper in her hands, reading a line before looking back up.

"I'll keep this in mind for future references. I'm sure it won't happen again, I don't require help once I get started."

Pausing.

"I must thank you for your concern of my safety, but it is unnecessary. If death is to come of something stupid of a trap, so be it. I welcome it gladly, death does not scare me. I must say, you remind me of a friend to have as much paranoia you have, perhaps I reflect you on a lower scale.. Heh.. That would be rather silly, nobody reflects each other after all."

Getting to the point.

"I'll keep that in mind. Please see that the spare nuclear rods in the next shipment. I could live with some more with that, as long as your fabricators run on lead as a sub-component, I can live with the rest. Now.. Im going to go get some sleep before I pass out on your laboratory buildings floor, have a good night."

--End--

[Enkidu]

****Instation Transmission: Location, Freeport 10 Tau 37****
****Transmission Impending****

***Intended target: Susan McCarthy***


----Logs accessed----

"Apologies cheri if your search was overly extensive (oh and good morning, anyhow). However, your situational data appears to be…" *A tint of playfulness flickers into his features, "….Slightly inaccurate. As I'm sure the CW research department will inform you the station receives no less than six registered ZXBT's in the twenty-four hour cycle, and this most recent one happened to be carrying a most profuse load of the pre-mentioned supplies, running up a considerable credit deficit for my person."

"Anyway, this is inconsequential. The requested supplies will be be assigned to your workspace (although not directly at your workspace, I fear you may be somewhat crushed if that were the case). The reactor casing may take slightly longer, as clearly whatever you're trying to assemble would be best tailored to a custom shape. Merely give the desired specifications to the fabricators and they will manufacture the aforementioned case.

*Stops for a moment and squints directly at the screen*

"I'm intrigued by what exactly you're utilising this (well, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt by assuming it's a reactor as opposed to a bomb) for exactly? You do not have to tell me, and I will not hinder you're progress. I'm just curious why you're not utilising a pre-constructed nuclear device, instead of manufacturing your own?"

*A Gallic shrug*

"Ah, but enough from me. Oh and cheri, there's a fine line between paranoia and security. You were rash about your own personal safety so you accuse be of being "paranoid" for the measures I have installed around my room. Have you considered - by contrast - that you may be rash and brazen, perhaps quick to act? I'll leave you to mull on it."

"Oh and adieu, of course. Whatever you're constructing please make sure it doesn't blow up in your face, or anyone else's for that matter."

----Logs out----

***Achille out****

---

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)

Information | Recruitment | Message Dump |
Feedback | Diplomatic channel

(Links pending redevelopment).

[Remnant]

--Reply Incoming--

Susan slowly shows up on a screen, the transmission a few hours later than when she received it.

"I apologize for the delay, its been a while since ive slept in a while.." Glancing down, an embarrassed tint to her face, quickly glancing back up and focusing. "I took a look, and indeed found that there were most things I wanted in another storeroom, I.. apologize for any inconvenience for not noticing before. Mostly everything I need is being prepared now, i'll be running in no time."

Sighing, rubbing one of her eyes.

"The reaction process its rather.. open-ended, radiation particles from the reaction can have an effect, because of this, i'll be utilizing something different with the reactor chassis. It may be inefficient, but it works.."

Studying the camera boredom for a moment.

"If you are curious, stop by. Just don't get in my way, I can care less about what other people do. You will find I live by that anywhere, not only in a lab.. Well, I'll be off.."

Cutting the transmission without a second thought

--End--