Heyooo! Uuuuh-ehm. I come around these parts every few weeks, yeah. I just do my thing and scram before anyone - (in space) - notices. Most of the time, anyway.
I'm guessing that shouldn't be a problem? Whoever y-- ...oooh. Oh, now I'm seeing it. You're a Gaian. WooooohmygaawdIwassureeverythingwassettledbackthen! Well...poop. Thinkfastthinkfastthinkfast...
Okay, genuine mistake. I fatfingered the "send" button instead of recording a new - (proper) - message. I never actually conversed with any other Gaian other than the Dockmaster on Atacama. Can you believe it?
Okay...ooooookay. New words, here we go: I, the person in question, visit the system every few weeks. I've been doing this for the past year or so. I stop by Atacama to refuel and have a nap before doing to long trip back to wherever I get to call 'home' for a time.
Now don't take me for a selfish douchebag, okay? More often than not I bring goods to the one person I passively know there.
From: Flora, Gaians To: Wendigo Encryption: Yes Subject: ?
Mister.
You're dodging the question so I'll be nice and spell it out for you.
Last I checked, there weren't many people flying Defender-class fighters who were on good terms with. Doubly so for the folks on Atacama. Who are you, exactly, and what is your business here?
Right-o...the ship. I always forget that a Defender isn't exactly the most subtle thing to fly.
If it helps with anything, you can call me 'Mikey'. I have the prefix "Ex-" tied to a bunch of previous jobs. The last one being an Insurgent! Since the funky looking Defender still sporting a somewhat faded insurgent tattoo on the right wing, y'know. I wanted to paint it back on - refresh the paint - but I realized two things: I'm a horrible spray painter and some things are better left dead in the mud.
I've been running solo since the uhm... bombastic end brought by the big bad of the region: Liberty.
Now, clearly you really want to know why I'm here every now and then. And I...! Well. I can't stop you from doing that, so here goes: it's a thing I do like clockwork. Not any different from leaving some flowers at a grave. Except it's in space, you feel?
So I'm going to ask you to let me finish ma thang' over here, alright?
Awfully specific, this medbay. Is there a case of the flu I should be concerned about?
O-Oh, and yeah. We definitely will meet again. Set your internal clock at three weeks starting tomorrow - provided nothing supernatural happens in the meantime, amirite? Eeeeh? Eeeeeeeh? ...alright, I'll stop pushing my luck now.
Seriously though. Medical checks weren't a thing last time I visited. I didn't see you before either, and we can both agree Atacama ain't that big. I think what I mean to say is: Who are you, Miss? "Just another Gaian" doesn't really work in a grave system like this one.
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