Entry#: 143
Date: 07 - 03 - 819 AS @ 21:22 SUT
Title: Untitled.
Another rapid and unexpected change of scenery has recently pressed itself into my life. I now find myself in, of all things, a metropolitan apartment in Manhattan City's upper east end.
As for how I got here? Well.
I have a date with a member of the infamous Reaver Mercenary group. I don't know who they're sending my way just yet but the purpose of our rendezvous is to discuss a business deal. I suspect I've been in the sights of this lot before once or twice, but the thing with these mercenaries is they have absolutely no allegiance to anything besides the credit. Even if I have one or several bounties on my head so long as I prove more lucrative alive than dead there will be no problem.
It came to my attention that the people who destroyed my poor old Eagle on Newark were in fact some lackeys of the Congress. They seem to lack the firepower to fight their own battles so they send in extras to help out. Typical Congress.
Two can play that game. Putting the Maelstrom and Metropolis aside for the time being and outsourcing the hard work to "subcontractors" strikes me as a way of bringing the fight down to their level, after all I needn't get my hands dirty nor put them at any risk where it can be avoided.
Sneaking around Rochester earlier proved quite entertaining. Although my own and Misaka's faces are known and disrepute, Kana and Fumika are entirely capable of snooping around without creating even the slightest concern. So long as I keep myself quiet those two can do whatever my whim demands - for example; buying stolen jewellery en masse from a local brain-dead thief to flog off to a goldmonger for a not inconsiderable profit. Breaking the law never gets old - especially the part where I'm flying right under the noses of those who're meant to stop me.
I'd forgotten just how mind-numbingly incompetent the LPI is. I saw one yesterday floating around Manhattan orbit sound asleep - or he was sound asleep - right up 'till I dropped a mine in his face and ran like hell. By the time he had the ship's engine on and the lights flashing I was already well outside recovery range, laughing my arse off over the local channel.
And then there is the Navy. The less said about their newer members the better. My little Sakura makes a better tactician than some of them - which I guess is why they're all still ensigns. Speaking of the Navy, though, reminds me that I should see if I can't get some free food out of the ever-darling Fleet Admiral who I believe is poking around Manhattan somewhere.
The other people living in this building are the kind I've spent my entire life abusing, stealing from, pillaging and plundering, terrorising, torturing, maiming and killing - and they won't ever know. There is just something really invigorating about the whole scenario.
Sounds like there's someone at the door. Let's see how this pans out...