Communique to Eric Dresmund

[Taneru]

The tumbling toolbox drifted lazily along the cramped maintenance tunnel, rebounding off the walls every so often with the soft clink of metal on metal. Eric reached out and halted the toolbox's motion for what could have been the tenth time that hour. Withdrawing a handheld arc welder from the box, he released the box again to let it continue to float in the zero gravity of the tunnel and turned back to his task. Eric slapped the tinted goggles closed over his eyes and reached forward with the welder into the exposed piping, hooking one leg around the nearby tunnel brace for support. His target was a small gap in the pipes, the replacement piece for for which was softly wedged between another set of pipes.

Securing and welding the pipe into place didn't take long at all, and once finished, Eric extricated himself from the cramped position and reached up to crank open a valve ahead of the replaced section. There was a soft rushing noise from the pipes, but nothing else. Satisfied with the fix, he grabbed the floating toolkit and pushed off from the wall, drifting down the tunnel using the conveniently placed handholds all throughout to control his motion.

The frigate was quiet, aside from the normal soft groaning and creaking of aged metal, and as he navigated his way through the cramped confines of the maintenance passages with their varying states of minimal to no gravity, Eric hummed a soft, wordless tune, almost absentmindedly. The solitude was nice, sometimes. Alone in the depths of the debris fields, aside from the ship's AI which was slowly degrading into senility, with nothing but the ever-drifting fragments of near a thousand years of human civilization beyond the boundaries of his home-on-the-move, Eric felt relaxed, almost at peace. There was something to living on the edge, with no one but yourself to rely on that tugged on his soul.
But contact with others was never a bad thing.

As his feet settled down onto the deck of the frigate's 'bridge', Eric grabbed onto a nearby support strut as a slight flicker rushed through the room's lights and he felt weight return to him. It was hard enough keeping the gravity generators of the main compartments and living spaces working without letting them burn themselves out while not in use. With the bridge's gravity generator back to normal strength, he stepped over to an empty storage socket by the entrance and locked the toolkit back into place. Cleaning his face off with the arm of his shirt, Eric strode lightly across to the flickering lights of the communications console and turned it active. A waiting message was unusual, but when he played it back, it was a voice he recognized.

"Huh." He played back the message a second time, though only half-listening this time. At the end of the second playback, Eric slid into the seat and began working on a reply.


'llo, Suzume.

Sure, I can help, but the thing's still in New London, za? A long trip is right.

Few ways to take it, but I ain't goin' through Kusari. Just ain't safe.

Omegas or Liberty?

---

Characters
Alan Markson: The Hellfire Legion's Lord Commander
The Perihelion: Freeport Four's guardian, and yet much more. Missing and assumed Lost with all hands.
Eric Dresmund: Junker, smuggler, thief. Last seen drunk on Beaumont
Vayrn Wyard: IMG Recon pilot turned Neo-Terran Captain. Last location unknown