Evangeline Anastasia McDowell

[Bazza]

Entry#: 127
Date: 25 - 12 - 818 AS @ 18:48 SUT
Title: Untitled.

I finally managed to dig my computer out of what was left of the Maelstrom. Looking at the remains in front of me I do wonder how all of us got out alive. She looks no better than the day I found her; black, charred openings down her once proud flanks, her now lifeless shell devoid of any hint of the imposing, frightening aura she used to bear.

I tried to assemble a list of the parts that will need replacement or repair, got fed up and just wrote "everything". Both engines are fried, the generator core is destroyed.... the climate control isn't even _there_ any more and a big hole sits where it used to. A large number of the exterior panels need replacing on top of it all.

I'm amazed that we all escaped mostly intact. I have a slash on my forehead, a broken ankle and some minor cuts and bruising on my arms. I had a "doctor" look over little Elisa with some equipment lovingly donated by a passing medical transport and as far as he can tell, she is still alive. Which I can tell you was a huge load off my shoulders shortly after the incident.

It's no way to treat an expectant mother, throwing her around like that.

Misaka has, in addition to the standard-issue cuts, has a fractured wrist from being thrown around the bridge like a ping-pong ball. Kana and Fumika, perhaps as amazingly as our survival, share identical yet opposite broken legs, amongst other things - both caused by being spat down a hallway by an impacting razor whilst clambering to the escape pod.

Sakura, however, is the one most worrying me. Not so much in her physical state but her emotional one. The kid has had to relive the death of both her parents over again. She's more-or-less unhurt on the outside but her inside.... is cut deep. She hasn't smiled since it happened. It's her blank, depressed gaze that hurts me more than anything I sustained to my own person. We're all fairly tough and hard-wearing women here, but she's just a little girl... she shouldn't have to go through this.

Whatever semblance of an armistice I once had with the Navy no longer exists. Barely before getting us all rescued I had set out plans for getting something out of Liberty to recoup the damage done. A bounty on the heads of any and all members of the Libertonian Naval forces that will, according to plan, encourage collectors out of the underbelly of society and into the public domain. Creating a sufficient annoyance to the Navy to make me feel like I've gotten back at them.

I don't actually expect to overthrow the Navy, they number in the millions. But every ship lost at my discretion adds up. It'll create enough trouble for those in power that my request to the Admiralty will be noted.

An especially generous incentive now exists for the one who leads them; David Hale. I wonder why I ever let myself listen to anything he had to say. If I had opened fire on the ships chasing us when I had the chance we would never have reached this end position. Why I thought if I didn't destroy anything David would step in to prevent the otherwise certain is beyond me.

I don't think that any more. I'd prefer to see him dead.

The work on repairing the Maelstrom continues in front of me, the men and women of Puerto Rico working hard for their credits. Welders, grinders and all sorts of machinery operating almost around the clock to get her online as quickly as possible.

The things holding me back are a lack of materials and the operating space to do work on the ship. The docks were never designed to handle a ship this size; it can barely manage to service two transports side by side much less a bloody destroyer. Even as simple and agricultural as she is, the Maelstrom is still a ridiculous task to undertake in this environment.

The CSV that I had stowed away in the hold served her purpose perfectly - allowing all of us to disembark my cruiser before she fell to the force chasing her. Whilst those responsible partook in the fireworks display, we escaped and ran to Montezuma.

The swarm of Rogue ships loitering about the ice field eventually coagulated at the wreck site and scared the Navy off before they could violate it. I had originally feared the Maelstrom's remains would be towed away and destroyed, yet after the Rogues had assured me the enemy force had been dissipated, we returned to find she had been left as she fell.

Pulling all of the favours owed to me together I procured a heavy transport and some fighter escorts out of Montezuma to move the Maelstrom out of the field and to safety. Whilst the local "doctor" (using the term lightly) treated us for our injuries, the wreckage was moved with a distinct lack of dignity - first through the ice field to the Cortez jumphole then pushed through it with a total lack of respect, re-attached to the towing vessel and hauled across open space to the Kansas jumphole, where the earlier procedure was repeated.

Twice more the same operation was repeated in an ironically similar scenario to her original "re-floating", placing her inside the dry dock of Vieques Shipyard - far away from Liberty's influence.

After spending a ridiculous amount of credits and finishing up owing way, way too many favours to a number of people, the Maelstrom was successfully hidden away and locked up.

At that point, sorely lacking in sleep I sent word out of my intentions to issue a bounty on the heads of those responsible. It spread like wild fire and it was only a short time before the first claimant stepped forward.

Of all the people I expected not to make direct contact with me, Admiral Hale topped the list. Of course thanks to the laws of the universe he was amongst the first round of applicants and claimants. A video recording addressed personally to me sent throughout the underbelly's version of the Neural net - the bulletin boards of Junker bases. After viewing it I realised just how efficient the unlawful population of Liberty is at weeding itself out.

A lad mouthing off about where his cheque was coming from, unsurprisingly getting himself wasted at David's hands. So the cat was out of the bag and that was why he'd contacted me.

Just wonderful.

He didn't react all that well to my original demand for termination of the contract - nude photographs of his wonderful self. But hey, if I can't make light of the situation and get everyone's spirits up, we'll all be wallowing in our own self-pity for the rest of our lives. And it was worth a try, wasn't it? A girl can look all she wants. It's only touching that is problematic, as I have proven with this little darling waiting her time to enter the world.

The second demand was somewhat more reasonable. The materials required to get the Maelstrom up to operational condition.

I sent a reply back, but I am yet to receive further communication. Whether he got it, and in such case is able to send a reply, are both in question. The channels available to us are, at best, unreliable. So I'm not holding my breath.

Fortunately for us the Alsatia has taken up residence beside her wounded stable mate. I'd hate to have to bear with the "accommodation" on offer here.

I just hope that I'm somewhere safe when Elisa decides she wants to greet her family. She's a week overdue now and I can tell she's waiting for the worst possible moment, as I would expect my own daughter to do. Make everyone's life hard yet be just as hard to hate for it.

Hope also exists for the location of her father before the big event. It'd be a huge disappointment all-round if her family was missing one member at the "formal greeting".

I don't normally believe in fate or luck... but today I place my faith in both.

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