A Thousand Suns - Beyond Sol (Chapter 02)

[Seathal]

Begins at Introduction (http://forum.egosoft.com/viewtopic.php?t=233670)
Continues from Chapter 01 (http://forum.egosoft.com/viewtopic.php? ... 41#2752641)

Been a whole year since I last wrote the previous chapter, hope I haven't lost the pace. Anyways, enjoy!

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[Terratec Personal Diaries - Enhanced Edition]

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[Recovering...]

[Entry 001: 28, April 767 of the Argon Calendar, 12:18]
Uhm, hi. I don't even know why I bought this useless piece of crap. Boss said I'd need it for my next assignment, I wonder what that incompetent has for me. I can't see how this toaster will help me, but hey, as long as the company pays for it, I don't really care. I think maybe he wants me to keep a record for the next investigation or something.

I'm becoming more and more tired of this agency's politics, I didn't become a journalist for this. All I do with these guys is reporting about misteries in abandoned asteroid mines or supersticious crew members babbling about their lunatic officers. With all that military conflicts and cultural uprisings I wonder when I'm gonna get a real reporting duty worth of my capabilities.

Anyways, all this is just for testing this piece of junk. I'm out to do something useful.
[End of Entry 001]


[Entry 002: 1, March 767 of the Argon Calendar, 21:43]
So that was it! I still can't believe it! Old boss finally gave me something worth it! No more wasteing my precious time in eventless yellow-page tales, luck is on my side. If I get to do this job I'll be on the path to professional fame, I could be just like Freya Samson, just without being old and boring! Although I have to confess I'm a bit hesitant due the dangerous nature of the job, but the company ensured me I'll have press immunity thorough the whole mission.

One of the agency's contacts in the Ianamus Zura sector informed my superiors that the "fearsome" pirate, Sid Vane, in its almost fanatic preaching, is searching to expand his word to every system in this universe by all means possible. This includes letting our cameras and reporters in their ship for one whole mazura. Needless to say, that the agency is preparing a special broadcast media emission that will be a huge hit to the audiences: the first illustrated report inside a pirate mothership ever! Truly a scoop!

All the other press agencies would try to lay down their paws into this juicy prey, but we've hidden this well. A cameraman is being selected to assist me in this job, I just hope he doesn't get in the way. I've got a wozura to prepare myself for this. There's no time to loose, and no mistakes to make, if I want this to be my passport to universal fame.
[End of Entry 002]


[Entry 003: 12, March 767 of the Argon Calendar, 08:02]
Well, here I am! We've boarded the company shuttle from our headquarters in Argon Prime to get to the nearest jumpdrive transport to the Teladi Colonies. The agency didn't want us to embark in Argon Prime's Spaceport due to information security reasons; they seem to think the project is safer if we take the long and unpractical way.

My new camera and assistant, Dirk, is putting me on my nerves. His childish behaviour and constant questioning is making me want to throw him into the nearest airlock and take charge of the operation alone. Why do they send college schollars for this type of jobs instead of true professionals?
[End of Entry 003]


[Entry 004: 14, March 767 of the Argon Calendar, 13:10]
The jump-trip from Cloud Base South East to Ianamus Zura was quick, easy and unexpensive. We travelled in a massive Mamooth jump transport alongside many other travellers, many of them Teladi, who probably were returning to their headquarters from doing business in the Argon Core sectors... well that's what I supose. Is anything else these green critters can do?

Our instructions are to disembark in the local Teladi Trading Station and wait in the public commercial area until recieving further information. I don't really know what this means but I don't like it. How are we suposed to proceed to the pirate galleon? Or will it just knock on the window?

Speaking of windows, the view of the planet Ianamus Zura from the space station is astounding. For a moment I wished I was here on vacation, the planet seems warm, comfy and the Teladi here are kinder and seem less greedy than their Seizewell counterparts, although you can never know... they're still Teladi.
[End of Entry 004]


[Entry 005: 15, March 767 of the Argon Calendar, 01:22]
This is weird, I don't know well how we ended up in this banged-up TS ship heading to gods-know-where. Last thing I remember was falling asleep in a rather isolated part of the lobby waiting area of the station. I think someone gased us up and brought us in here. Our equipment and belongings are still with us and we haven't been harmed. The ship is constantly jumping from one sector to the other as if not to leave any track of our journey. It seems we're involuntary guests in here, they gave us a small inner cabin with just one bed and barely no light. Nobody has given any explanation, we barely see the crew members. This is insultating. As a respectable Argon journalist I deserve better treatment than this. I'm so going to complain to my superiors when I get out of here, if I ever do.

Dirk hasn't stopped sobbing since they closed us up here, he isn't helping at all. I will have to sort this out myself it seems. At least they gave us water and food, if you can call that food.
[End of Entry 005]


[Entry 006: 17, March 767 of the Argon Calendar, 04:56]
This stazura we finally found out we're in a traffiker transport, commanded by illegal weapon dealers. They're a relatively small crew, we counted from 3 to 6. One of them, a Split, came to us some mizuras ago and briefly spitted out why we're here. It seems they are our transport to where Sid Vane's ship, the Rhapsody, hides, deep into the lawless central sectors. I'm a bit calmer now but I still don't trust these people much, I'm starting to wonder where I got myself into.
[End of Entry 006]

[Entry 007: 17, March 767 of the Argon Calendar, 05:25]
We're hearing explosions, the ship's suffered several impacts and there's fighting going on outside, a young Teladi crew member came in our cabin and ordered us not to move from here. Through the open door I could take a quick glance at the window outside and I saw laser fire coming and going from different directions. It seems we're in the middle of a combat. Between who? I don't know. I just wish they don't blow us up.
[End of Entry 007]

[Entry 008: 17, March 767 of the Argon Calendar, 19:46]
Don't think I've been that close to death ever.

As the combat outside continued, three of the weapon dealers came for us, armed. The split and the teladi we already met and another huge split we did not see before. They pushed us down the walkway, Dirk recieved a heavy kick on the stomach when he stumbled and felt onto the floor. They forced us into a wide airlock right next to the cargo bay. We thought the worst.

A rather large freight drone was standing by in the middle of the airlock chamber, big enough to fit several cargo containers. When they ordered us to get into one of them Dirk panicked again and tried to scape, just to recieve a mighty blow with the stock of one of the Split's laser rifles. The other Split then lifted and throwed him into one of the crates and his luggage after him. I faced the Teladi, who seemed to be the one in charge and I refused to get in.

The Teladi lifted her laser weapon towards me and repeated the order, genually irritated now from her body language suggested; her crest extended and furious and her eyes blazing. I had no choice but to comply, I barely fitted with my baggage inside of one of those empty cargo crates. The cage locked from the outside when closed leaving me in absolute darkness. I could hear Dirk freaking out and crying for mercy in the cage next to me, then the sound of the isolation gates closing and the electronics of the freight drone being activated. I felt a sudden acceleration and the sound of air being ejected into the vacuum, and then nothing... nothing but the deepest cold you've ever imagined.

The crates had temperature isolation and were totally locked from the outside, but they were too thin to totally neutralize that, utterly cramping, cold. Neither me nor Dirk were gonna be able to tell that, I thought, we had no air supply but the one that got trapped in with us and the cold would kill us in no time. We probably weren't that long in those damned boxes but it felt ages to me. I stayed there and waited, trying to come up with something good enough as the very last thought. As I was about to lose conscience I felt a big shake and a sudden stop along with a "clank" noise. I felt the drone was being transported, now vertically, and I could hear the air flowing in around it again, the cold not so unbearable.

Something blew the top of the crate away and I couldn't help but to scream as the light revealed me to the outside. When my pupils adapted to the new light I could divise several heads peeking down on me from the outside, of different races, they seemed to find it funny.

"Welcome to the Rhapsody" one said.
[End of Entry 008]