...Incoming Transmission...
...Encryption: Active...
...Origin: Buffallo Base, New York...
...Sender: Sarah McFarlen...
The signal had been through at least three other transmitters before reaching its destination. By the time it finally arrived, the feed quality was poor, even by Rogue standards. The quality of her message; however, could not have mattered less to Sarah McFarlen, silhouetted against the undersized cockpit of a Mule freighter, still in dry dock. Judging by the state of her clothes, the girl had been working on the vessel for a good few hours.
"Long time no see, Jeff." she muttered, dripping sarcasm. "I mean, you'd think it'd warrant some sort of note... Hey, Sarah, I've joined up with homicidal maniacs! Having a swell time."
Sarah practically spat the words, disgust forcing them from her.
"News gets round. Trust me on that one.
Were you there, Jeff? I heard about the Intruder. What happened there... Did you do it? I'll bet pulling the trigger made you feel really good, huh? Shooting defenceless people... Christ." The young engineer shook her head, seemingly seeking to shake the terrible image from her skull.
"There's a difference. Between killers and murderers. A killer kills because they have to. A murderer does because they want to. The Rogues have plenty of both... It's not great, but...
I thought you were better than that. When you helped Kashi, you fought off a cruiser so no-one had to die! Now you're helping them kill people." Sarah slumped back in her chair, disbelief and betrayal as plain on her face as joy once was.
"I don't care what they're saying. Don't you dare step foot on Buffalo... So help me...
ID:[color=#33FFFF] Jeff Anderson Recipient:Sarah McFarlen Subject: Undefined Encryption: Beyond Belief Priority: High
Anderson appears on screen, pale, with his eyes bloodshot,
in the shadow of a easily identifiable Virage fighter,
with the background of Rochester easily visible as well.
"Look, let me..."
He pauses, and rubs his head thinking of what to say
"Let me say, it's different. I wasn't a part of that. I was recruited off the spot. I never even saw the Intruder. You don't understand... I couldn't.. contact you. It's not like I wasn't watched, a mercenary is suspicious for anything. Having a relationship with you... It wouldn't have worked. I didn't want to get you involved in it."
He pauses, and shuffles his feet.
"But I didn't even do much pirating, doing it twice over a period of months. I spent most of my time aboard the Larceny, which is, or, was, The Society's Pilgrim Liner."
He pauses again, and looks at his surroundings, and wipes at his watering eyes.
"But I'm no longer apart of them. I split with them, taking on of their Gunboats. I also manage to take a Waran as well. I'm not proud of it, but some of the things I've seen them do makes it worth my time. I know I was in the wrong though for doing it without telling you... so all I can ask is for your forgiveness."
He sighs, and walks over to the camera while looking at the ground, slightly ashamed of what he had become. He pauses and pulls out a recorder, and plays a Song from in, setting it on the feed, and walks out of view. When the song finished, he re appears and turns the feed off.
...Incoming Transmission...
...Encryption: Active...
...Origin: Buffallo Base, New York...
...Sender: Sarah McFarlen...
Sarah had been halfway through a particularly temperamental engine when her wrist mounted computer, one of precious few relics of a richer life, gave a cheerful beep and exploded. The girl extracted herself from the web of machinery amidst muttered curses, taking at least three fuel feeds with her. It was another two hours before she finally returned the computer to working condition, thankful that she'd bothered to wear gloves for once.
Evidently the machine hadn't been built to handle strong signals. It was a miracle it functioned this far from Manhattan at all. When she finally did view the message, alone in the engineering bay, a sad little smile crossed her face. It certainly wasn't as bad as it could have been. The girl felt a surge of shame, perhaps if she'd been more trusting... Wasn't it what she'd hoped for? He was alive, and he hadn't killed anyone... Well, no-one on board the Intruder anyway.
Sarah self-consciously bit her lip, and began;
"Jeff... I mean..."
She sighed, sitting on the workbench.
"I forgive you. Of course I do."
After all, what else could she say? That a Pilgrim was usually used to carry slaves? Perhaps... Perhaps she would bring that up another time. The situation seemed plenty fragile enough already. ”You don't need to worry about me, I’m a big girl. Laugh in the face of cruisers, remember?”
As she replayed the message, Sarah grinned, circumstances forgotten, evidently lost in memory. Eventually she succumbed and laughed, the noise tinny in the cavernous room. The fact that Jeff was evidently worried about justifying stealing to her of all people. Compared to her ship stealing tendencies, his may as well have been a drop in the ocean. Sarah restrained herself from even thinking about piracy. She’d seriously considered investing in an eye patch at one point.
”A Gunboat and a bomber? How did you even do that?”
She paused for a moment, deep in thought. Was it worth bringing it up? There were so many questions that needed answers. After a while she seemed to come to a decision, and looked up at the miniscule computers camera, only to be interrupted by a crash from the door. Shaun, one of the bases many Rogues, didn't look too happy with state of his Werewolf's port engine and set off at a slow stagger, about the limit for the average pirate.
”Got to run. Hey, if you're free, drop by Alcatraz sometime. I'll send you the docking codes.”
Maybe then she would get her answers.
With one last glance at the not-exactly-rapidly closing pilot, Sarah turned and ran, the sound of her footfalls ricocheting off the base's walls. She was not so focused however, as to forget a mental note she’d filed earlier.
The camera jerked between floor and roof for a few minutes before it cut out, victim of yet another loose circuit.
