12-15-2017, 10:46 AM
Painkiller
He sat in his small cramped office onboard CMG "Direwolf". Ishram Teweli finished his last message to the Confederation of Freeports and idly looked at the screen. His mind was absent. The man could not think about anything else but an utter scandal one of his closest friends caused to the idea Ishram wanted to surface. Val. Why you had done that in the first place?
He looked at the glass of whiskey and drank it. The black-haired Zoner sat on the desk and rolled the glass in his own hand as it looking at its frame like on the most wonderful artifact in entire Sirius Sector. He failed. He utterly failed in a way it could not be repaired at all. He took a deep breath and started writing the response for the Corsairs, trying to wage every single word he had. It took a while, around good hour or so. When finished, Ishram looked at the clock. It was 2:34 local time, meaning it was night already. The bright sun of Omicron Theta behind the window sort of made that meaningless though.
When the man hit big glowing SEND, something in his heart changed. The feeling of guilt became unbearable. Ishram was tasked a very simple thing, to trade around. But he allowed a man who destroyed the Guild from inside to do mess such like this. The closest friend he had or at least had for a such. Without thinking, he wrote yet another message to leave it on the screen. It read:
Ishram closed his eyes and led his hand to the shelf under desk. He felt a familiar metallic frame, which the man gripped and put against his own head. He could not even think about what sound it made when trigger had been pulled.
He sat in his small cramped office onboard CMG "Direwolf". Ishram Teweli finished his last message to the Confederation of Freeports and idly looked at the screen. His mind was absent. The man could not think about anything else but an utter scandal one of his closest friends caused to the idea Ishram wanted to surface. Val. Why you had done that in the first place?
He looked at the glass of whiskey and drank it. The black-haired Zoner sat on the desk and rolled the glass in his own hand as it looking at its frame like on the most wonderful artifact in entire Sirius Sector. He failed. He utterly failed in a way it could not be repaired at all. He took a deep breath and started writing the response for the Corsairs, trying to wage every single word he had. It took a while, around good hour or so. When finished, Ishram looked at the clock. It was 2:34 local time, meaning it was night already. The bright sun of Omicron Theta behind the window sort of made that meaningless though.
When the man hit big glowing SEND, something in his heart changed. The feeling of guilt became unbearable. Ishram was tasked a very simple thing, to trade around. But he allowed a man who destroyed the Guild from inside to do mess such like this. The closest friend he had or at least had for a such. Without thinking, he wrote yet another message to leave it on the screen. It read:
I take full responsibility for the recent actions that made Canis Majoris Guild the most hated faction among the Zoners. I do not think exiling Val Khmeri will ever repair that, but I was always a very optimistic man, even in the face of worst things to happen. The future of the Bethlehem, whoever would read that, belongs to you now. I did right thing. At least I hope so. Farewell. The Stars Are True Freedom.
Ishram closed his eyes and led his hand to the shelf under desk. He felt a familiar metallic frame, which the man gripped and put against his own head. He could not even think about what sound it made when trigger had been pulled.