[log] There's trouble in them there hills...

[Log Initialised. OK ]

The screen flickers and slowly an image comes into view. The young Captain of the Persephone One sits onboard, easing back in a chair, removing the bandages that serve to protect her face from the harsh desert. Perspiration drips down her face, mingling with the desert dirt. In the background, there is faint chatter and the sound of ship engines. Almost certainly a port of some kind. She leans forward to speak...

I suppose I should update the log. Seems like the one from the desert got garbled and eaten again. I'll have to get the droid to look at it. Anyway, I'm too hot to worry about that now and there's lots to say...

We're currently docked at the central Al Raqis spaceport. Engines fixed, all systems go. There's so much traffic here that the ship will largely go unnoticed. I don't think we have to worry about the Constable. If the Persephone was on the Imperium radar, they'd already be here and carrying me off to some prison planet or worse. At least that's what I've been told.

Anyways, I have other things to worry about. Namely the Myrmidons. I was accosted in the foothills in the eastern deep desert. Now, remember that I'm supposed to be an ally. I've doing my bit for them, I'm smuggling necessary supplies from various places and doing it without the United System Directorate knowing about it. All at great personal risk to myself. I don't know what prisons look like on this planet and I'm not keen to find out so it's....advantageous to myself to be everyone's friend. After all, who knows when the USD might call on my services?

So there I am, up in the foothills and this Myrmidon female appears from nowhere, head to toe in camo.  She says she wants to know what I'm doing there and accuses me of looking for a good sniping position. Now, I was taken aback by that. Then another appears. Apparently they were doing training exercises in the area and I'm stumbled onto their radar. So now I'm on the nasty end of some very unpleasant looking weapons. They asked some questions, obviously trying to catch me out. Who are you? Where do you live? What do you do? Usual sort. Now, I'm used to this sort of thing. You don't spend as much time as I do flying the shipping lanes without encountering this sort of thing. I've got it down to a fine art. But you can't predict Myrmidons at all. Now seeing as I'm writing this log, you know I got out alive but next time, who knows? I'll be having word with the powers that be because this is unpleasant for my good self. 

Hang on..

In a whirlwind of commotion, another figure comes into view. A feminine shape....a blue-toned female clad in a dark skintight uniform. She has striking white hair and deep blue eyes. She mutters something into her mistress's ear who looks back at her astounded..

What do you mean my hotel bill is overdue? I told you to pay it....

No credits? What do you mean no credits? 

[Log Terminated]