Here begins your doom?

Old Sinister looked out from the window of the fleet’s corporation office in Motsu, at the small wild lands area full of mature trees and long grasses. The wild lands were a smallish area of green sitting under a large window high up on the roof of the station, facing the systems sun. Large daylight lamps augmented the suns meager power, weak from it’s journey across the solar system. Naturally, unlike the tropical areas, this area of grassland was used to filter the stations recycled water and give it an authentic taste. Either way, he enjoyed the view.

Interrupting his thoughts his Executive Office tapped  respectfully on Sinister’s antique desk.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”
“I did Than. Take a seat and let us speak freely.”, he said, regarded the trees outside for a moment more before turning.

Than looked at his boss and friend. Caldari, Achura stock. Thin almost pinched and dressed in a somber suit. The man had a disturbing stillness sometimes, even in the heat of battle he retained decorum and tact. Some of the deck crews had commented that he probably was a robot incapable of feeling. Thanotopsis knew it was just that the guy was private. Very private. He realized that he didn’t even know his bosses full name. Obviously his call sign “Death Toll007” suited Old Sinister as he never thought to correct anyone with a real name, or anything less dark. His friends simply calling him “DT”.

So a military strategist and combat pilot from a well off family, graduates top of his class in military school, runs missions for the navy for 2 years and then disappears for 20, coming back to start his own company? A little odd.

“What do you know about asymmetric warfare Than?” DT asked, a quizzical look sitting oddly on the serious features of his face.
“You mean guerrilla warfare, hit and run etc?” said Than.
“Indeed, yes.”
“Well I understand the basics. I have seen and simed a manticore bomber and buzzard in training.”
“Good. I need to share with you a vision I have for the fleet. It is comprehensive and we are playing a long strategic game.” DT smiled thinly at his ExO, “You have time?”
“Of course Sir”

After 3 hours DT sat back assessing the likely thoughts going through Than’s head. He had been through the whole 10 year plan in some detail.

Than’s head hurt. The guy had just described, in detail, plans for mission running, mining, manufacturing. He had talked about station building and moves to low security space. It was all planned! He had even drawn up action plans, structures and deadlines.

“I will get on it Sir”, Than said.
“Please do. I need an update weekly. I have to go away for a few months. Please mail me via the secure channel.”
“Ok. And sir?”
“Don’t worry about that Than. I am aware of it and he is being watched” Sadness passed across his face briefly, “That is all.”

Once dismissed Than headed for the bathroom. One thing about DT, he could talk without stopping for hours and the niceties of food and bio breaks just didn’t happen.

Hmmm, cloaky ships? Sounds fun.

Inside DT again went to the window. Children were playing in the large oak near the small pond. He watched them play for a bit before returning to his desk and his neocom console, the strains of a Minmatar opera in the background.

He typed at the inlaid keyboard.

To: Fleet of Doom – All pilots
Re: Prepare for war

The final section of “Tribal Slaver” by Brutor Hakeun Narklar built to it’s violent climax in the background as DT hit send and he began to smile again, his eyes unfocused in reverie.


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