Absolution

[Sombs]

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It seemed to go well this way. The moment Solandros filled the glass, the Curacaoan eyed it carefully. Alcohol, possibly? No smell. Before doing anything, he waited for the Agent to take a sip himself. Not that it mattered much. If he was here to poison Ezrael, he would have prepared himself for that. And then, there were thousand more faster and secure ways to kill him.

Still, the thought didn't really make him thirstier.

"We have to work with what we have, Agent. We have the Mako, I paid for it in more than one way. We upraded and altered it to suit our preferences. Trading it in or selling and buying a Bustard or Zoner capital ship would be a waste of resources and time, and we'd only end up with something with less defensive capabilities."

He leaned back in his chair, his hand still at the glass, the other in the pocket of his leather jacket. Many people had asked him why he insisted on keeping the Apahanta. Sometimes he wondered whether he was doing it more for the reasonable arguments or for egoistic reasons. This was his ship, after all. He loved it. More than any woman. And certainly in a different way.

"I believe the other big reason is that I've seen often enough how people react to a Zoner capital ship. The big difference is, when people see a random Mako-class warship out there, they think twice about getting close to it, while Zoners have a thing for attracting attention. Mostly the negative kind."

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Uncharted System Stories: 18 | 32 | 34 | 37 | 38 | 85

Templates: Character | Transmissions

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