As Leere drifted through the unknown reaches of the edge worlds, he spent his time in states of confusion and deep thought. He had a large amount of time now to himself, where he could do nothing but think and mull things over. Through this entire time, Leere continued to only have ideas and nothing definitive but he had suspicions about what happened to allow for him to be where he his now, alone. Despite all this, he faced a serious issue: His food supply.
At this point, it had been several days since his escape from death and he had been draining food like never before. His small little signature wraith didn't hold that many units, given it had to make room for the Nomad Power Cell. The remaining space was used to carry enough food, oxygen and water; as well as some extra goods like the furs. Given his small supply was almost devoid of anything edible he had little choice in whether he acted.
To Leere, the question beckoned. "Where can I go..?" It was this question he asked himself over and over, each time sounding ever more fearful. Leere pondered the thought of many different options he might have, dismissing most as too risky. He knew that he wasn't exactly welcomed by the majority of society, and his ship had been identified before; it wasn't worth the risk. He carefully considered his options, trying his best to stay calm and collected despite his dire situation.
His conclusion was a simple one in words, but more complex in practice. He needed his own little retreat, a getaway. Somewhere he could call home even if just for the time being while he comes to a full recovery. Yet where? Maybe he could find somewhere among some lowlifes and freelancers, a place where no one would recognise him? Find some uninhabited planet and rest there? Or maybe he hides out with a faction that wouldn't try and kill him on sight? The Commune? Pirates? These ideas and thoughts rushed through his head and it was a hard time sorting through them for what was actually viable.
Leere distracted himself, the supplies situation won't sort itself out. But what could be done? He wasn't exactly flowing in credits (not without his stash anyways). It didn't matter, it wasn't like he could just fly up to a station and buy some food to go. "Perhaps..." he said to himself quietly as he pondered a new option in his head. "We're more important anyway," he whispered to himself in sinister sounding tone. With that said, all he needed now was a target. Somewhere in the Edge Worlds, he would be certain to find something a little too lost and helpless. An easy kill.
Leere wasn't really used to this much thinking, it has been so long since he had to use his own brain to think of everything, he had always had another one helping him. The silence gave him an unwelcome sense of paranoia that seemed to just spring itself upon him at random times.
