"How convenient."
The pilot adjusts the positioning of his legs in the chair before continuing.
"A case of mistaken association occurred this day, courtesy of the Bretonia Armed Forces. They caught me behind an Auxesian logistics vessel, and considered me an associate."
The pilot shivers, before continuing.
"It'd be either an honor, or absolute insult, depending on how one looks at their reputation. Despite prior... Events, my opinion leans to the positive end of the scale."
The pilot shakes his head, left to right.
"Regardless, my hopes lie in the agreement to come. If anything, the Vagrants could greatly benefit from Auxesia dealing with certain... Groups, of value."
The pilot rubs the top of his head,
"I've had this feeling, since like, yesterday. A bit like becoming a living radio tower. Probably some link to whatever Mindshare the Vagrants use. I hope that little Wire doesn't have any plans in mind. Those tend to go awry when I get involved."
<<<LOG END>>>
User was banned for: They will know.
Time left: (Permanent)
The pilot is lightly touching his mask as the log begins.
"Past two days have been... Interesting. Some nosy Kusarian picked up a derelict artifact, and caught the eye of Raven. I chose to play the humanitarian, and instead of taking Raven's advice, offered to buy it off the Kusarian. Her name's Sanada Junko. What followed was one of the most painful talks I've had in a while. She got too probing, and asked all of the right questions just to watch me squirm."
The pilot shakes his head.
"She didn't find out about Wire, but... Still, was terrifying what she could do with the right questions and tone. That, or I'm too trusting. So, 50 million quid gone, and afraid of a lone Kusarian digging too deep, I finally got it."
The pilot takes a bottle of Liberty Ale, and attempts to drink from it. Struggling to fit it into the mouth hole of the mask he's wearing, moreso than before, he manages to get some of it out before wedging it out, and closing the bottle.
"Then came the issue of... Bringing it to the Vagrants. Disbarred from their home, and such. Help came in the form of an Oracle. One 'Will,' pilot of the Laguna."
The pilot shrugs.
"So, the artifact gets sent on it's way back to Kessereya, in my stead, and Wire gets something to give to Kaphy."
"Also, seems Raven's come down with something, I hope it's not too much."
<<<LOG END>>>
User was banned for: They will know.
Time left: (Permanent)
The pilot is laughing as he is seated in a cramped space, barely being contained.
"This is just lovely. Recount unfortunate K'Hara experiences, told to submit for detainment. I predictably fled, making note not to really attempt to harm anyone. I made a token effort with the mines, but still. One... Samantha Archer, was the person to start talking about detaining me for questioning. She was rather... Aggressive. Quick to the gun. Backed up by the unerring cloak disruptor machine that is the Amenhotep, and Chief of Liberty Police Incorporated. I seem to have a habit of getting myself in these situations."
The pilot rubs the portion of his mask that covers the forehead.
"Something's not right here. She has -something- going on. No one gets that twitchy that fast without a good reason, and someone regaling the experience of when they had a Marduk decloak in their face isn't one of them. I'll likely be declared an enemy of the Libertonian state. Or at the very least, LSF bait. I need to get off of Rochester, go somewhere else. Bretonia? No, under the LSF and ESRD's juridstiction as well... Rheinland isn't fond of me, I'm not planting myself near filthy Corsairs. Kusari's out of the question. Malta, though. Malta's fine. It's safe enough."
The pilot starts tapping the side of the pod.
"I really need to stay out of Liberty and find out where I went wrong."
<<<LOG END>>>
User was banned for: They will know.
Time left: (Permanent)
"I've been a bit neurotic, in hindsight."
The pilot shrugs.
"Yeah, I screwed up. I'm too trusting, I gave my info out way too easily, and likely can be considered stupid or brutally incompetent. I've been too obvious, and I'm going to likely need yet another name change. Still. Probably shouldn't be so inward about the whole 'I dun goof'd' schtick, and just try to live like a, you know... Less down-in-the-deepest-part-of-the-landfill person, than I normally am. Get a sense of humor. Take some genuine action, grow a pair."
"After all, this isn't the worst it could get."
<<<LOG END>>>
User was banned for: They will know.
Time left: (Permanent)
<<<LOGTITLE: Luck may in fact favor this Nomad, at least.>>>
<<<LOG BEGIN>>>
Chuckling can be heard as the log begins.
"I really am lucky, now that I think of it."
The pilot pulls up a guncam image as he finishes the statement.
"Painfully obvious infestee in New York today, had to defend myself. Felt awful, really. Such a long, drawn out event, with the knowledge that I was killing one of my own... Hooh. Not fun."
"The one thing I can take from this: Don't become like her. Or him. Just don't. For everyone's sake."
<<<LOG END>>>
User was banned for: They will know.
Time left: (Permanent)
<<<LOGTITLE: Luck may in fact favor this Nomad, at least.>>>
<<<LOG BEGIN>>>
Scratching is heard as the log begins.
"I, I really am too trusting."
The pilot starts to tap a nearby console.
"A... A friend of mine, threw me back into the existential crisis I was trying to avoid, in an effort to make everything less gloom and doom. Well, now, I may not be 'me,' and may end up as a cyborg if everything comes down to it. This is some fever-dream level stuff here, I guarantee it. AI, infestation, and now... A chance to become a second, more inhuman thing. This is getting ridiculous, but I'lll play."
<<<LOG END>>>
User was banned for: They will know.
Time left: (Permanent)
The sound of a large, metallic door opening with the accompaniment of various machinery can be heard as the log begins.
A muffled voice distant in the background can be heard.
The door closes after some time, the vibrations of another, similarly large, mechanical door can be heard through comm feedback.
<<<LOG END>>>
A derelict vessel can be found, floating in the Sigmas, sans black box. The vessel has long since lost any atmospheric pressure, gravity, or anything to make it livable. It's engines long-since stripped by prospective Junkers, it's guns also filched by the buzzards of deep space. Whatever happened to the masked, infested individual is likely best left unknown.
User was banned for: They will know.
Time left: (Permanent)
![[Image: NPC_wmask_b.png?version=83a806e07c42c0d0...182493a189]](https://hydra-media.cursecdn.com/pathologic.gamepedia.com/f/f9/NPC_wmask_b.png?version=83a806e07c42c0d04e4a8b182493a189)