Entry#: 114
Date: 06 - 08 - 818 AS @ 19:41 SUT
Title: Untitled.
So I very recently arrived at Rochester Base with the Maelstrom, still trying to track down parts for the Alsatia. I'm not sure if I've fallen asleep on the way here and had an unusually realistic dream or if I really did, in fact, have the Admiral of the Liberty Navy David Hale buy me dinner on board Newark Station.
Running under the assumption that something so ludicrous just _has_ to be the work of my imagination I shall retrace my steps from where the dream began.
I was flying through the backwaters of Texas, trying my best to avoid being picked up on any of the long range scanners when I picked up discarded broadcasts from members of what I affectionately label the Miscellaneous Pirate Swarm. From what I recovered of the transmissions the people in question were in a head-to-head dice with Admiral Hale. Morbid curiosity took over and I ended up flying to the source of the locations just quick enough to watch the Admiral down three fighters single-handedly... in a bomber.
I guess one doesn't become an admiral just through their good looks in Liberty. Although from the files I've seen Hale isn't exactly lacking in that area either. I complimented Hale's efforts over the local channels, primarily in an attempt to avoid my ship being blown to pieces by the <strike>penis</strike> siege cruiser that was also present. It seemed to work because we ended up in conversation together.
A wanted terrorist who is currently in the employ of a house at war with Liberty sitting in a destroyer not 500 meters away from the most important man in the Armed forces and we ended up talking about how the weather in Texas is always terrible.
Hale, being the upstanding gentleman that he is, asked me "how I was doing". Bad idea, that was. He ended up being blasted by my whining and bitching for well over 20 minutes. Somewhere in the middle of it all I laid down a proposal to cease hostilities against Liberty's lesser-gifted reserve fleet members in exchange for dinner. It has to be said the power of a woman's basic urges should never be underestimated. I was absolutely starving and the Maelstrom had no real food supplies left on board.
Before I knew it I was being escorted to Newark Station in orbit over Manhattan for a date with the Admiral. I'm willing to bet a few eyebrows were raised when the Maelstrom washed up in orbit with a full Naval escort. A few more raised when she moored with Newark, and of course several further when I hobbled into Sophie's Bar & Grill supporting my wounded leg with crutches.
I don't like gravity. It's so hard to move around. When I'm weightless I don't even notice I'm carrying another person inside of me, nor that my right leg doesn't really work any more. Being forced to use the crutches I also removes my prideful self-image and make me realise how fragile I actually am. Not fun.
I did my best to try and make myself less offensive to the eyes before I boarded the station, but there isn't really much going in the way of fashion for heavily pregnant women. I ended up in a loose, plain shirt and track pants one size too big.
I was half expecting to be jumped and arrested on the spot; I had my pistol hidden beside my bump but with no real intentions of using it, as it would mean putting the baby at risk. I found Hale sitting at a table, beckoning me over. The carnal lust for food that not only my own body but also that of the life inside me demanded I labour over and take my seat opposite.
Some miscellaneous small talk later and I was working on some of the best food I've ever had inside Liberty's borders. It beat the living hell out of the diet of hot dogs and Mountain Dew I lived on last time I washed up on Manhattan. Then it stole its wallet and shoes and insulted its mother before running off.
I'm sure I destroyed whatever image of toughness Hale might have had about me, but I think it was worth it. He also paid for not only my dinner, but take-away for my entire crew, so we're now obligated to uphold my end of the deal.
The taste of that steak is too real to be a dream. If I didn't know better I'd swear it was actual cow.
From this day forward I shall not raise arms against any member of Liberty's naval and law keeping organisations as the captain of the Maelstrom.
I wonder what it'd take for him to treat me again...